


Space Troopers

by Jameva



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Action/Adventure, I know nothing of science, IN SPACE!, M/M, Multi, Space battles!, Space monsters, mako experiments
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-07
Updated: 2014-04-20
Packaged: 2017-12-28 18:05:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 50,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/994907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jameva/pseuds/Jameva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Space mechanic Cid Highwind was having a wonderfully crappy day when he happened to stumble upon an old Shinra-issued cryogenic pod. His kind heart forbade him not to wake up the poor bastard. His cursing brain knew he was getting into a heap of trouble.</p>
<p>Crossposted from fanfiction.net (A-chan5)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All my science and space knowledge comes from novels and games, so please don't take it too much to heart. I'll also be freely mixing elements from the original FFVII and Advent Children. The other spinoffs didn't happen as far as this story is concerned.
> 
> Space Troopers was first posted on fanfiction.net under my username A-chan5. I've taken some time to tweak out some awkwardness and proofread it before posting on AO3, so there are tiny differences.

A cup of strong tea in hand and a view of the endless space from the seat of his spaceship.

All the elements were in place to make Cid Highwind happy. Never mind that they were grossly off course.

Of course,  _that_  didn't please him, but he had no choice but to take the wide way around the electromagnetic field that had put him here in the first place and back on his previous course. He'd contacted Cloud, and thank god he was in good terms with the kid, otherwise he would've missed that order ages ago. And his stuff at the warehouse wouldn't disappear on him, not after only around two Gaian days of delay on his planned pickup.

There was no helping it, so Cid had decided to cuss it out of his system and forget about that irritation for now.

Idly taking a drag of his cigarette before sipping on his lukewarm tea, Cid considered the luxury of the new auto-pilot system Cait Sith had somehow managed to install in the main computer. He was really starting to owe that little cyborg a damn lot. That program was top-notch technology he would've paid half a year's income to acquire, and here he got it for free. He still marvelled at the dumb engineer who'd just released that treasure-trove of an AI to do what it wanted with priceless programming.

Not that he complained, mind. Downloading programs directly from AIs without paying any fees bordered on piracy and theft, but since it was freely given by a creature granted free will and liberty, no authority could do anything about it.

Cid grinned in satisfaction. The one time he accepted to carry a cyborg around, he fell on a generous one. His day wasn't going so bad after all.

Something blipped on the screen spread before him. Cid leaned forward to look at the speck that had just appeared on his radar. Considering the size and the region they were in, it was probably just a space debris. Before he could so much as analyze its course against his own, the ship had calculated both and redirected itself in the safest way possible to avoid collision or, in the case of a space mine, detonation. Cid snorted appreciatively and leaned back. He liked piloting, but he wasn't adverse to letting the ship think for itself once in a while either.

That, and they really were in the middle of god-forsaken nowhere. And piloting in that was boring as all hells. Damn electromagnetic field. Downing his tea and placing the cup on the floor, Cid closed his eyes. He could just as well grant himself a little nap. He'd be warned quickly enough if something so much as sneezed around here.

He was just starting to snooze when he heard the cockpit door slide open with a whoosh of pressured air. What now… He cracked an eye open, a grumpy comment ready to be unleashed on the idiot that had disturbed him. Shera stepped up to the console, nervously glancing at Cid's narrowed-eyed glare.

"What do you want?" he growled, sleepily annoyed at being bothered.

Shera was getting good at ignoring his moods. She pointed at the radar. "It's that object, Captain. Cait Sith is still analyzing the ship's readings on it and can't tell its exact nature yet, but he said it wasn't just scrap metal. It looks whole and highly technological." She shook her head, peering first at the radar, then outside the window as if trying to see it from here.

He jerked awake at that. That description was very vague and could mean a lot of stuff, including a space mine. "Where's that cyborg taking the ship's readings from?" he asked, standing up with the shadow of a dangerous glare creasing his brow. The cyborg hadn't told him he could get access to and process the ship's data. And Cid didn't like unknowns that involved poking around his precious ship. That dumb cat had better have a very good explanation.

Shera sensed his mood and suppressed a wince. "Engine computers."

"From fucking  _where?_ " Cid yelled, storming out of the room, his hand itching for his lance. Cait Sith hadn't told him he could bloody access the ship's main computer from any auxiliary, bypassing all levels of security and server connections. It was starting to sound too close to spy programming to his liking.

Cid could make a fairly long list of competitors that itched to get their hands on some of his programs and trade secrets. If that was the case, the attempt was sloppy, but the boldness and resources of the one that had sent a cyborg of Cait Sith's class worried him.

Barging in the engine control room, Cid didn't stop to appreciate how Cait Sith jumped in surprise at seeing him storm in. A single, white cord coiled from Cait Sith's ear to the computer, connecting them. Only Cid's knowledge of the harm it could do to simply yank it out prevented him from actually doing it. He didn't care how it could damage the cyborg. But he cared about his ship.

"What the fuck are you fucking doing?" he cursed, glaring down at a confused-looking Cait Sith. His hand had settled over his retracted lance unconsciously.

"I'm just checking the readings on that object!" the cyborg squealed, shooting wide, scared eyes at Cid. Too bad that trick didn't work on him.

"Oh really?" Cid reached down and grabbed the cyborg by the scruff of the neck, raising it at eye level. "And when did you plan on telling me you had the bloody hacker programs to get to that data from the engine computers?"

Cait Sith squirmed and yelped when Cid shook him for good measure. "I didn't think I'd need to use them, so I forgot to tell you!"

"Fucking forgot!" Cid roared. Nothing pissed him more than something hacking into his ship, no matter the reason. The last one to try was now unidentifiable cyborg gore floating in space somewhere.

"I swear, I didn't steal anything!" he pleaded weakly, wilting under Cid's glare.

"Then why didn't you just come to the deck and ask me to do it from there,  _directly?_ "

Cait Sith opened and closed his mouth, looking utterly miserable as he shot Shera a begging glance of assistance. She coughed and Cid looked over at her menacingly, though his glare lost some of its force at seeing her face blanch. He would never be able to believe that Shera was helping anyone spy on him.

"I told him not to. I thought you wouldn't like being disturbed for something like that. But I was worried it could be something really dangerous, so I asked him if he could check it out from here. I'm really sorry, Captain, it's my fault, please don't take it out on Cait!" she hastily explained, wringing her hands and willing him with her eyes to understand.

Damn Shera and her damn intuitions. Cid turned a baleful eye back on the cyborg. "And why are you still connected?" he hissed. Cait Sith yelped, disconnected the wire and reeled it back in his ear, all within a second.

"It's true, it's all true! You can check my memory data if you want! I didn't touch anything else!"

"And I damn will," Cid growled, but he didn't release the cyborg. This hold seemed to have more effect on him. "Now you better tell me what you found before I change my mind and dismantle you into a self-serving tea kettle." So far Cid wasn't convinced the cyborg wouldn't really be more useful in that shape.

"Alright already!" Cait Sith whined. "That object looks like an old cryogenic pod. It's a few years old, that's why the ship had trouble recognizing it. It's still operational."

_Which means it might still carry a life form,_  Cid finished for him. Now, normally he wouldn't bother with such old technology, but cryogenic pods were one of the exceptions. They could always rake in a fair amount of money, especially if it still worked. Cid's hands itched to poke around its gears.

"That all?" he growled again for good measure. He still didn't trust the cyborg, but he might delay any dismantling for now.

Cait Sith nodded vigorously. Cid dropped him to the floor unceremoniously. "Good. But you're not getting out of my sight. Now open up for that scan, I wanna see that memory of yours."

Looking dejected as Cid took out his powerful handheld scanner –the cyborg knew he wouldn't be able to hide anything from that-, he turned nonetheless to offer his opened back panels, revealing the mechanism inside.

"Shera, go and override the auto-pilot and set us for that pod," he instructed, connecting his scanner to Cait Sith. "Tell the men to be ready for recovery manoeuvres."

"Yes, Captain!" She started walking out but stopped just before the door. "And thank you!"

Cid rolled his eyes with a grumble. "I'm not doing this for you, so don't thank me."

He could literally feel her smile on his back. "I know. But thank you anyways."

"Just go set that auto-pilot before we lose the pod!" he snapped with mild annoyance. Her 'yes, Captain' was chirpy.  _Chirpy._

Once she had exited the room, Cid returned his full attention to the small screen nestled in his palm. He smirked. "Now let's see if you lied to me, you sneaky little bastard."

 

 

Cid waited impatiently for the light over the door to turn from red to green, indicating that it was now safe to be opened. After a few seconds that seemed an eternity, it finally blinked to green. The door opened immediately after, revealing four men in space suits guiding a large pod on hover pads.

The thing was dirty from an obviously prolonged trip in space, but it was easy to see the age in the design. Cryogenic pod technology had evolved rapidly.

"Bring it in the third storeroom," he instructed the men, then reached for the com link beside the door. "Shera, reset the auto-pilot with its previous destination. And hurry up, we're late enough already!"

Crew members scampered to do as he'd told. Useless for now, Cait Sith shuffled around the pod, looking at it curiously but making sure he stayed within Cid's sight.

"Think you'll be compatible with it?" Cid asked the cyborg. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to operate the cryogenic system, or access the information on what life form it contained. He really didn't want to wake up a space monster.

Cait Sith tilted his head from side to side, considering. "I think so."

Once safely installed in the storeroom, the crew members left to get out of their suits, leaving Cid and Cait Sith alone with the ominous-looking pod. For the thing to survive so long in space without running into either monsters, mines or just space  bad luck bordered on miraculous. Cid approached the operating console almost reverently. Its age didn't matter. This thing was a piece of art nonetheless.

At the first command he tried, Cid found himself facing a solid wall of security. He frowned and cursed under his breath. He knew this kind of system. He tried something else, along with a few hacker tricks he'd learned on the way, but nothing he did got him even close to a password demand. He cursed and smacked his hand on the smooth top of the pod.

"It's no good. Damn it! Try hacking into this thing!" he snapped at Cait Sith, cussing liberally as he crossed his arms and stood back, watching as the cyborg vaulted up to sit on the pod and connected himself to its controls.

Cait Sith's eyes glazed over for a moment as he started working on bypassing security programs. It took longer than Cid would've thought. By the time the cyborg's eyes finally widened in surprise, he was pacing and cursing impatiently.

"What is it!" he demanded, feeling like shaking the cyborg again. It'd worked last time.

"This thing might be old, but it's tough," Cait Sith said, his eyes still unfocused as they widened even more at the various discoveries it was making. Still, it hastened to explain further. "I barely managed to crack it. Some parts of the data are corrupted…I can't tell how long it's been in space. According to the vital signs of the life form, it's still under regular cryogenic sleep and can be awakened safely. It's human."

Cid cursed again, for good measure. Human! What was the bastard doing, floating around like that? "Name?"

Cait Sith shook his head. "Male, that's all I can say. The identification file is empty. It wasn't filled before launch. I'm gleaning as much as I can from the regular medical readings."

"Can you terminate the sleep?" Cid asked, lighting himself another cigarette with a deep, growl-y sigh. He couldn't just leave this guy frozen, not now that he knew he was a human. Hopefully it wouldn't be some criminal mastermind he really should've left alone.

The cyborg nodded. "Now?"

"Of course now!"

"Termination engaged." Cait Sith recited in the cold voice of computers. Lights on the control panel suddenly flashed red warnings and the cyborg jumped down the pod with a yelp as the cover lifted open in a gust of cold air and vapor. Cid noted with annoyance that it extinguished his cigarette. He lit himself another one. Cryogenic thawing had to be done very quickly in order not to damage the body.

Cid refrained from looking into the pod just yet, moving to a com link in the wall instead. "Marty? Haul your ass in here with a stretcher. We've got a live one," he told the ship medic, barely waiting for the affirmative before closing the link.

That done, he satisfied his curiosity and looked inside the pod, though he was in no real hurry. The guy would sleep for another while.

The man was lying on his back, arms at his side. His skin had the pallor of all cryogenic sleeps, yet looked healthy. His hair was black, and long, and he was swathed in red and black clothing that had nothing to do with the fashion of a couple years back.

Cid noticed a barrel just poking out of a fold in the red fabric. Further investigation revealed a very powerful and dangerous-looking gun strapped to his thigh. His left arm was covered with a golden, clawed glove Cid somehow knew wasn't just for show.

Cigarette forgotten as he stared, Cid cussed generously under his breath. He'd thawed no innocent. Knowing his luck, this guy would of course prove to be the biggest psychopath out there. Still, he had to give him his chance, maybe he was just weird, not weird  _and_  killing-spree crazy. If not, well, his retracted lance was always strapped to his hip, and he knew how to use it well, and fast. Hopefully fast enough for that monster of a gun.

Lost in thought, he didn't realize that Cait Sith had disconnected himself and was tugging at his sleeve. He looked down at the cyborg. The cat wore a strange expression. "What?"

"I managed to recover one last piece of information on the pod…" he started hesitantly. He looked up at Cid nervously. "It's Shinra."

"What..? Fuck!" Cid cursed and swore continuously as he walked around the pod, trying to see behind the black smears all over the sides. And there, almost completely hidden, was a corner of a red insignia. He hadn't thought much of it at first, but now that the name had been brought forth, he couldn't help but recognize that shade.

He knew his luck. Even if the guy proved to be as innocent as one can be while carrying that arsenal, he knew he was in deep shit. Deep, deep shit. Nothing else came from meddling with Shinra. Nothing.

He felt like shaking the bastard awake, but knew the only thing he could do was wait. He had a damn lot of questions to ask.

_Shinra._ Fuck.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cid wasn't quite sure it was natural to have eyes like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The crossposting continues! So far there are 9 installments in total; a tenth chapter is in the final stages.

The sense of awareness came gradually, yet it wasn't until he was fully conscious that he realized as much. At first he had not known who he was or where he was, or even if this was just a dream. He had been floating in a haze of nothingness that had lifted slowly as, piece by piece, his memory returned. Now he knew exactly what was happening.

Vincent Valentine. He recalled his name, and his situation. Someone had awoken him from his sleep. Yet the question was who had done it, and what for? He ignored how much time he had slept; the sleep was dreamless, and to him it was as if he had just closed his eyes. He could hear the beasts rumbling, yet their voices were subdued by confusion and dredges of fear. They had never been silenced so completely. Always, before, they had been able to haunt his every dream and nightmare, giving him no respite. Yet this time they, too, had slept.

Still floating in a state of physical half-consciousness, he forced himself to become aware of his surroundings. He was lying on something that seemed to strive for soft and comfortable yet failed because of its lumpiness, and his body was covered by coarse fabric. He deduced he might be in a bed of some kind, yet judging by its quality it could just as well be some couch. He understood quickly that, thanks to the constant, familiar hum permeating the air, he was in a spaceship.

His next discovery was the numbness of a needle pricked in his arm. Dread lashed his mind into full and complete awareness and it was with great effort that he stopped himself from bolting. Had he been recaptured? It was highly likely. If that was the case, he had no intention of letting his captors know that he was awake just yet. The merest element of surprise could prove crucial. He controlled his breathing with great concentration, to make it seem as if he were still deep in sleep, and reached out with his senses to try and figure out what situation he was facing.

With the first moment of panic gone, he realized that the would-be bed certainly did not feel like anything from the cells or the labs. It was by far too luxurious. And the smell of the room was entirely wrong, lacking the undercurrents of chemicals and strong disinfectants. Rather, it smelled of metal and oil, with touches of tobacco smoke here and there. That was one thing that would never come near any area he would find himself locked in after capture. He allowed himself to relax a little, his heart not so hard to control anymore. Maybe, just maybe, he was safe from  _him._  But the good will of the hands he had fallen into was still to be determined.

Conscious that he would be unable to conclude anything while he faked sleep, he slowly opened his eyes. A dark grey ceiling welcomed him. Only one flickering neon light was switched on, leaving the room in semi-darkness. The sight confirmed that he was most definitively not in either cells or labs. He felt a considerable weight lift from his shoulders.

He had escaped them. His relief was almost painful, yet he had not forgotten the potential dangers that might still lie ahead. He turned his head to study the room, only to find his eyes arrested by a sharp stare coming from a man sitting by the door.

The man had propped the back of his chair against the wall, one ankle crossed over his knee, looking completely at ease. He was staring openly, unconcerned, a steaming thermos held forgotten for now. The man did not divert his eyes, holding his half of the stare easily. Vincent knew right at that moment, seeing the eyes of that man, that he was not one to be underestimated.

"Good to see you awake," the man finally said, breaking the silence. As if that was his cue to indicate that his study was over, he broke eye contact and sipped from his thermos. "Want something to drink?" he offered, gesturing with his thumb to a side table Vincent had not noticed yet.

Vincent did not answer. Sitting upright carefully, he openly studied the room. His gun, claw and extra layers of clothing were all set on a spare chair in the far corner of the room, closer to the man than to him. Prudent, yet not threatening. He considered that a good sign. His gaze shifted to the side table. There was only a pitcher of water and a glass. Beside the table was a long pole with a hook from which hung the pack connected to his arm. Thankfully, it looked to be only for hydration. But now that he was awake, he could drink. Vincent plucked the needle out unceremoniously. He held no secret love for needles.

"You are the one who woke me from my sleep?" he asked, unsurprised to feel his voice so scratchy against his dry throat. Cryogenic sleep was not kind in that department.

"Cid Highwind's the name," the man, Cid, answered with a nod.

"Thank you." Vincent did not offer his own name. Until he knew exactly who he was dealing with, he would rather not reveal too much about himself.

Cid smiled crookedly, yet it was genuine, even though his eyes remained wary. "Think nothing of it," he brushed off, shrugging with one shoulder. "How d'you feel? I've got a medic I can call."

The idea of having a stranger poking more needles into his skin was far from appealing. Vincent shook his head. "I'm fine." Just a little off-cue, with an unsettled stomach and limbs he knew would be weak if he stood up.

Cid just looked at him, tapping his fingers against his thermos, before standing up. "Glad to hear it. You can sleep some more if you want. Just make sure you drink some water or else Marty's gonna flip. I'm going out for a smoke." He shot him one last look before turning for the door.

"Wait," Vincent called, and Cid obliged, raising an eyebrow at him over his shoulder. "How long was I out there?" How much had he missed?

"Sorry, but I have no clue. Data was corrupted," was the disappointing answer.

Did it really matter how long he had been asleep? The important thing was to be awake, alive and, hopefully, free. "I see."

"Just take it easy for now, ok?" Cid said, waving a hand over his shoulder. The man's broad back disappeared behind the automatic door.

Vincent caught himself staring blankly at the door. He wasn't quite sure what to make of this Cid Highwind. Thinking, Vincent poured himself a glass of water. Marty must be that medic; he did not want to have anything to do with the man just yet.

The simple fact that he was alone with his weapons told a lot. He had been granted a certain amount of trust from Cid, who had given him the opportunity to prove that he meant no harm. Then again, the man must know about the after effects of cryogenic sleep, of how he was currently, in all probability, too weak to aim steadily, much less take the kick from his gun. Maybe Cid was actually saying he knew him to be defenceless for now, that he was strong enough to handle him even with a gun in hand. Or maybe it was both. Not knowing prevented him from judging Cid's character.

And then there was the matter of what Cid had actually said. He'd told him the data in the pod had been corrupted, meaning he had actually been able to delve deeply into the system. Accessing the terminating system was one thing; the information another. Vincent knew what level of security he'd programmed before launch. Cid was -or had- a very good hacker, and he must possess very powerful programs. He wasn't just anybody, for better or for worse.

Churning all those thoughts in his mind, Vincent finished his water and sat back against the pillow, a deep frown creasing his brow. What was he to make of all this? It could be he had landed in the safest ship in space; Cid certainly did not make him feel particularly threatened. Yet so many things could have different meanings that he was unable to fully convince himself of that possibility.

The best thing, for now, would be to wait and see how things evolved. He was too weak to attempt anything, or to defend himself properly against anything, for that matter. Closing his eyes and lying back down, Vincent nodded mentally.

He would wait and see.

 

 

There were two places in his ship where Cid consciously agreed not to smoke: the medical centre and under his control panel. The medical centre because Marty would get on his case, and he could be damn annoying when he got riled up, and the control panel because wires and hazardous fire were not a match made in heaven.

Chewing on a cold butt instead, Cid carefully reconnected the faulty wire. A spark ignited and he snatched his hand back with a loud curse, sticking his stung fingers in his mouth. He should've seen that one coming.

Something shuffled above him and Shera's head popped upside down to see under the panel with an expression oscillating between worried and amused.. "Are you ok?"

"It'll take more than that," he answered, finishing his adjustments. "How is it now?"

Shera's head disappeared again as she straightened to check on the monitors. "It looks alright, Captain. I'm reinitialising."

Damn electromagnetic field. Cid shuffled sideways, closing the metal plate over the wires only to open another one. It had worked more little glitches into his ship than he'd seen at first.

"Good." Cid evaluated the connections over him and quickly spotted the damaged unit. The electric density of the field had almost completely fried it. No wonder the boosters' emergency manual override had gone screwy. "Check the booster program's readings. I'll be tampering some."

"Yes, Captain," Shera acquiesced. She nudged something against his leg. "Here, I think you should use it," she added, a laugh in her voice.

Cid craned his head to the side to see the object in question. The plastic-covered pincers stared back at him with inert amusement. "I'm fine," he grumbled, but took the things anyways. Two burnt fingers were enough.

He'd have to completely replace the unit, that was for sure. There wouldn't be any patching up this time. Carefully disconnecting and removing the unit, Cid shuffled back out from under the panel to search in his large spare box, packed haphazardly with various pieces of equipment.

"Where're we now?" he asked Shera as he foraged through the mess. He should put it in damn order. He always told himself he should organize his spare box, but he never got around to doing it.

"One Gaian hour short of the meeting point. We should be receiving a transmission from Cloud any time now."

"About time." One full Gaian day late on his meeting. Tifa was going to be worried. Then she'd be pissed.

Having finally found his bloody emergency backup unit, Cid pushed himself back under the panel, plastic pincers firmly in hand. From under there, he could hear Shera drumming her fingers on the console. That meant she was nervous about something. He waited for the inevitable question.

"Cid…Do you think he's- well, safe?" she finally asked.

Damn, she'd switched to names. He wouldn't be able to slither out of this with a curt comment or two. "Who? Cloud? Of course he's ok." If anyone could take care of himself, it was that kid.

"Oh, no, I'm not worried about Cloud, there's no reason for him to be in any danger. This zone is as safe as can be. And besides, he's very resourceful, and Tifa's there with him-"

"Shera!" Cid interrupted. Never set her off on a tangent when she was worried. She started  _talking._ "Who are you fucking talking about?"

A sigh over him. "That man, from the pod."

Cid grimaced and repressed a sigh of his own. He didn't know any more than her if that man was bloody ok. He'd seemed calm as can be when he'd woken up, looking around with those freaky red eyes. Cid wasn't quite sure it was natural to have eyes like that. The man didn't speak much, either, but that was more to be expected.

"Don't worry 'bout him, he's not dangerous," Cid replied instead. He didn't know that, but he would at least give the man a chance. Cid had left him his gun. When he'd recovered enough to be able to use it again would be when they knew.

"I hope you're right," Shera murmured. "I've seen his equipment."

"I told you not to worry! Now get your brain working on those readings!" he ordered, having finished with his repairs. He'd seen the equipment as well. Gun, claw and all. He dearly wished to know what psycho he'd sheltered.

"Yes, Captain," Shera replied half-heartedly.

Only a few moments after they had lapsed back into silence, the main computer's mechanical voice informed them of an incoming call from a secure source. Cid pushed himself out from under the panel once again, rubbing some unidentifiable black substance across his forehead as he wiped sweat off and not caring about it.

"What's the caller's code?" he asked, though he was pretty damn sure who was knocking at his door.

"EX-786-0098, Captain. It's Cloud," Shera answered, stating the obvious. She didn't bother asking; she simply authorized the transmission. It was Cloud, after all.

One of the screens on the panel sizzled to life with a blurry, shaky image of a woman and a blond man right behind her. Her smile was wide and relieved.

"Cid! You're finally here. I hope you didn't get yourself in too much trouble," Tifa teased, her smile curling into something mischievous and certainly foreboding of the admonitions to come.

"Nothing I can't handle," he answered in a burly tone, lighting himself a cigarette. Hell, he wasn't under his bloody console anymore, he could smoke if he damn wanted to.

"Of course. I'm sure you figured you could cut through an electromagnetic field unscathed," she stated, her voice fairly dripping with sarcasm.

"Hey, the ship didn't pick up the readings until it was too late!" he half-lied. Alright, so he could've avoided it with a little will-power and some luck, but he'd also wanted to test Cait Sith's new additions to the ship, so he'd let himself be dragged in. It wasn't like he'd actively sought it out.

"Cid," Tifa warned, her smile wavering and fading completely, "you made us wait a day for you. We missed a good deal because of the delay, and we might just have another one snatched right from under our nose!"

"Geez, I'm sorry, alright? Can you just get Cloud in that chair now? I've got something interesting for him," Cid brushed off, feeling a little guilty, but not overly so. He'd given them the option to leave and catch up with him later, but they'd decided to wait. That decision was not going to end up on his conscience anytime soon.

Shera giggled behind him, clearly amused to see him being chewed out by Tifa. He shot her a scowl over his shoulder, and she wisely left the room, smiling privately the whole time.

Tifa hadn't bulged. She raised a fine eyebrow at him. "Can't you tell me?"

Cid rolled his shoulders and nudged his cigarette to the other side of his mouth. "You're biting my head off and I don't feel masochist, so I'd prefer talking to Cloud right now." He tried putting humor in his tone; Tifa couldn't possibly stay so angry so long for that little delay.

She stared at him for a moment before exhaling in a deep, half-aggravated, half-amused sigh. She raised her hands in defeat. "Fine, you win. But I'll be listening to everything you two say."

"Wouldn't have it any other way," Cid harrumphed around his cigarette as he watched the two switch, so that Cloud's chocobo mug now almost completely filled the screen. He grinned toothily. "Hey, kid. How're you doing?"

Cloud shrugged with one shoulder, making his arsenal of leather sheaths creak generously. "Bored." He met Cid's eyes and smiled just a little. "You're late."

Cid hissed the smoke out of his clenched teeth and threw his hands up. "Not you too! Give the man a fucking chance!"

Cloud's smile survived the older man's antics, but it died when he spoke again, leaving place to stark seriousness. "What's the news?"

Letting himself fall into the chair Shera had freshly deserted, Cid stared into Cloud's eyes and realized they had the same kind of… _edgy_  gleam as Vincent's. Damn Shinra to hell.

"I stumbled on something interesting on my way here," the mechanic started, leaning forward and resting his elbows across his knees. "Thought you might be able to help."

Cloud was silent, waiting for further details. Cid obliged. "I got myself an old Shinra-issued cryogenic pod. It was inhabited by a guy with eyes that look a bit like yours."

"Shinra?!" Tifa yelped behind Cloud, and though Cid couldn't see most of her, he could read her surprise and misgivings in her voice. "What do you mean, inhabited by someone like Cloud?"

"SOLDIER?" The blond man's voice was even but tense as a slight frown shadowed his brow. If Cid might have thought he didn't have it before, now he was sure he had his complete, undivided attention. He shook his head.

"I don't think so. He's different, a bit."

"He?" Tifa repeated. "So it's a man. What's his name?"

Cid shrugged. "I couldn't get his name from the files. You'll see him and the pod when you come onboard.

"Don't you think he might be dangerous, though?"

Cid barked a laugh he knew wasn't quite fair considering the situation. He stared Cloud in the eyes and weighed his words. "Absolutely. He was armed damn heavy. But I don't know if he's a danger to me, or someone else."

"It could be anything, with Shinra," Cloud mused, but his frown would not relent. He shook his head slightly. "You said the pod was old? If it's from before my time with Shinra, I won't be of much help."

"We at least have to check, though," Tifa declared. She nudged her face besides Cloud to make sure Cid could see her. "We'll dock on your ship. Get it ready for us."

"Any time you want."

With a last nod and wave, Tifa disappeared from the screen. Cid spared a few minutes to engage the docking procedures, but when he returned his attention to the screen, Cloud was still there, frowning and thinking loud enough that Cid could practically hear it. "I forgot to mention something." The blond boy's eyes snapped back into focus. "The guy woke up already. He's a silent one like you."

Cloud scrunched his eyes closed in defeat and let himself fall back against his chair. "Be careful."

Smiling more widely than he felt, Cid waved a hand over his shoulder dismissively. "Don't worry about me. Just get your ass over here."

As the transmission ended and Cid returned his attention to docking Cloud's smaller ship, he caught himself hoping that he was right. Hopefully, he hadn't just put his friends in a bigger mess than they could handle.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next time he awoke, he was alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See chapter 1 notes

From a scientific view-point, there is no up or down in space. Of course, necessity and logic required the notion to be applied to spaceships, and especially large ones such as the Shinra mother ship, a massive hulk of machinery that prowled through space with its hundreds of smaller minions gravitating around her like so many moons. Reeve Tuesti was well aware of how you had to be careful with 'ups' and 'downs' when you navigated space and planets and stars.

Somehow, though, that knowledge never alleviated his feeling of stepping deep down in the bowels of the earth he'd never really experienced whenever he made his way to Hojo's domain, just a few levels under the main living quarters.

He had hesitated some time before deciding to go see the professor, if only because he was reluctant to put some fairly innocent civilians in mortal danger. Despite said civilians' dubious legality in the acquisition and ownership of certain pieces of equipment and programming, they didn't deserve Hojo's tender affections if they ever caught his attention –or stepped in his way.

Still, after some deliberation and some more investigating, it'd become obvious he had to inform the professor. The other Shinra heads had already brushed the matter aside completely, but if anyone could tell if something had to be done in this particular case, it was Hojo. Reeve doubted the guy would feel any sense of responsibility in this, but at least his curiosity would make him move.

Striding through the last level to which he had unlimited access, Reeve made his way past a few iron doors before finally stopping in front of one seemingly identical to all the others. He knocked sharply and waited. He'd be a fool if he expected Hojo's office to be anything but tightly locked.

It took a few minutes before there was a hiss of hydraulics and the iron door opened, revealing a pale, skinny professor looking up at Reeve through thick glasses. If anything, the man looked bored.

"Reeve. It's rare seeing you here. What do you want?"

Definitively bored, but with something that most likely still kept the scientist busy. Reeve knew more about the man than he liked, sometimes.

"Some information about old projects of yours," Reeve answered, tapping the files in his hands, silently indicating that it might be best not to speak of it in the middle of the hall.

Hojo quirked an eyebrow, pushing up his glasses. Now he did look remotely interested. "Old projects, you say? Curious…Come in, then."

Despite the invitation, Reeve had to move fast to avoid being left outside as Hojo closed the door almost as soon as he'd turned back around. Hojo's office was dimly lit, with only a single lamp on the desk illuminating papers strewn all over its surface. The rest of the room was filled with cabinets and boxes and crowded shelves, all half-hidden in shadows. What with the constant smell of chemicals permeating the air, the place had a fairly good hang on gloomy.

Hojo turned to him with a quirked eyebrow. "What's this all about?"

"You might remember the pilot program on space adaptation, just before Sephiroth ," Reeve started, watching Hojo's mouth quirk in a private smile that held mirth purely and only for himself, listening to every word that was being spoken, especially since the mention of Sephiroth. "and its lost specimen," he finished.

Hojo nodded and a soundless chuckle shook his hunched shoulders. "Indeed, I remember. What a fine specimen it had been, and a small pity to lose. What did you come here to tell me, Reeve, that you found it?" Hojo asked, his dark eyes sharp under the casting shadow of his slightly prominent forehead.

Reeve nodded and handed Hojo one of the two folders in his hands. "Exactly."

The scientist wasted no time in perusing through the few papers of information, almost completely dismissing Reeve's presence from his mind. All the while he hummed and chuckled quietly to himself, no doubt in memory of old times and experiments. That habit was only one of the many reasons Reeve disliked meeting with Hojo.

"Interesting. I wouldn't mind resuming my research on that specimen," Hojo nodded to himself, leafing through the sheets of papers as he moved back to his desk, Reeve now completely forgotten and implicitly dismissed.

He still had one last bit of news to deliver, however, and he was fairly sure Hojo would be interested in this one as well.

"A moment, professor. There's something else." Hojo looked up over his shoulder with something that bordered on annoyance at being disturbed. "This has to do with Sephiroth." The annoyance melted to be replaced by an unholy gleam that Reeve frankly thought no better of.

"Is it now? Well, it seems even  _you_  can have your uses," Hojo drawled as he snatched the folder from Reeve's hands and opened it without another word. "Ah, how amusing, the failure is there too!" The professor mumbled a little to himself before remembering Reeve. He looked up with very clear displeasure this time around. "If there's nothing else, you know where the door is."

"If you need anything else, you know where my office is," Reeve said, ignoring the unsaid jabs and insults and putting special emphasis on the last part in a knowingly vain attempt to get it in Hojo's head that he was not a messenger, that he was doing him a kind of favor.

He didn't wait for an answer as he showed himself outside the office. Despite its dim lighting, he still found the hall bright and cheerful compared to the creepy man's company and quarters.

He tried not to think too much of the people he might have sentenced to visiting other parts of Hojo's domain that would make his office look like salvation, burying the vague feeling of guilt down where he'd quarantined any emotion that endangered his position amongst Shinra's corporation.

 

 

The next time he awoke, he was alone. Vincent straightened up slowly, flexing his arms to test their strength. He still felt off-cue, and damnably thirsty –the pitcher of water was still there and had been refreshed, considering the bobbing ice cubes, so he took the liberty of drinking a few glasses-, but at least he could tell he'd recover fully soon.

The movements required to sling his legs off the bed reawakened his stomach, which promptly proceeded to growl in post-cryogenic hunger. Vincent smiled thinly as he stood, feeling his legs shaky and balance testy. It appeared he'd have to count a little more on Cid's goodwill if he ever wished to recover completely and be on his way. He did have a cure materia, but the after effects would only make him worse after the initial boost.

The metal floor was cold against his feet, but the sensation kicked a few senses back into gear and helped clear his head some, and he'd need everything he had to determine where he was, who Cid was, if he was safe, and if not, so that he could escape again.

Still, he wouldn't be doing that in the thin white clothing he'd been granted. His things were still on the chair. Vincent wasted no time in dressing himself, including his materia-filled bracer and metal claw, in case things turned sour. He picked his gun last, leveling it up to his eyes, checking the barrel, the trigger, giving it a thorough examination to make sure it'd be in perfect working order if he needed it. Thankfully, the cryogenic cold had not harmed it, nor had anyone of this ship's crew tampered with it. Vincent holstered it back in its familiar place against his thigh.

Feeling oddly reassured by his equipment and old garments, Vincent left the room in search of the captain of this ship.

The small hall outside his room was dim and cool, but unlike Shinra's ships, it had a certain familiarity to it, a rough edge and a certain lack of thorough cleaning that made it almost  _homey_. The hall held a few more rooms and stairs at one end; Vincent aimed for those.

As he reached the top of the short stairs and pushed a door open, he distinctively heard a thump and a few muffled curses. He stayed his hand before it could reach his gun, then carefully moved forward and closed the door behind his back, peering around for whoever he'd hit.

He hadn't expected to have to look  _down._

The cyborg at his feet was something he hadn't expected. Frowning slightly, Vincent carefully studied its movements as it hopped back to its feet and massaged its rump –a useless gesture, since cyborgs did not feel pain, but an indicator that it either had very human programming, or advanced AI.

"Heya there, you could warn a cat before slamming doors open!" it grumbled accusingly, raising large squinty eyes at him, wrinkled even more by a deep furrow of annoyance.

It was an interesting thing, for sure. High quality, but such a ridiculous and diminutive design… Vincent vaguely considered it a waste of resources.

Faced with Vincent's silence, the cyborg's expression gradually softened in pleasant surprise and friendliness. It grinned widely. "You're the man from the pod! Sorry pal, I didn't recognize you there. Glad to see you awake. How are you feeling?"

Vincent shrugged with only one shoulder. "Fine. Can you tell me where Cid is?" he asked. He had no time to waste with the cyborg, and didn't particularly care if he sounded rude.

Not affected in the least, the cyborg kept on grinning as it bobbed its head in rapid assent. "Sure do! The Captain's never hard to find anyways, just follow the smoke and the curses!" The cyborg laughed; apparently it had made a joke. Impassive, Vincent just stared at the small cat until it caught the hint and started to move. "Right. This way, just follow me!"

The cyborg started away, tail held high in feline delight. It introduced itself as Cait Sith, asked Vincent's name but received no answer, and babbled blithely on. Vincent didn't really listen all that much until the cyborg mentioned his pod and its security settings.

"And those were some mean security levels you input in there!" Cait Sith was saying, gesticulating emphatically. "I nearly couldn't break through."

Vincent looked down with hidden surprise, reassessing the cyborg. He knew exactly what he'd programmed before launch. "You are the one who terminated my sleep?" And tried to access information that wasn't there.

Cait Sith nodded with a wide, proud grin. "Yep! And let me tell you, it was one tough nut to crack. What were you afraid of anyways?"

Vincent looked up and away and did not answer. So, Cid had a good hacker after all, in the form of a cyborg he was starting to better understand. That pilot seemed to be a resourceful man, at least, which might either help or worsen his situation. He wouldn't know until he talked to him.

Cait Sith walked down one last short hall that ended before two double doors. It stopped and nodded his head at it.

"That's the mess. Cid's in there. I'd love talking more, but the Captain's going to fry my butt if I don't go back to work. Good luck with him!" The cyborg winked once, waved and bounded down the hall and back to the lower levels of the ship.

Vincent watched it go, then turned to the doors. He could hear murmurs from inside, imprecise, but he could discern more than one voice. Silently, he palmed the pad to open the doors and stepped inside.

The mess was small compared to its double doors. It held a few long tables that could accommodate maybe twenty people all at one time, with one wall screened off around what he guessed was the cafeteria counter. In the middle sat three people, two men –one he recognized as Cid- and one woman. They'd fallen silent as soon as he'd opened the door and were now staring at him with no small amounts of curiosity and wariness that he returned in full, if less ostentatiously.

The first thing Vincent noticed as he studied the other two people, however, was the mako-glow in the blue eyes of the young, spiky-haired man.

"SOLDIER!" he hissed, and no sooner had the word escaped his mouth that his gun was poised before him, still and menacing.

_Caught again like a fool, when you're still weak!_

The others had jumped to their feet just as quickly, and suddenly there was a long, lethal spear in Cid's hands.

"Drop the gun," the pilot ordered gruffly, face set in a deadly expression. Vincent ignored him and stared at the SOLDIER, refusing to break eye contact and give this man a chance to attack.

The SOLDIER, however, had yet to draw any form of weapon. He simply stared back with those glowing eyes, unfazed, and raised his hands in a gesture of harmlessness.

"I'm not a SOLDIER," he said slowly and evenly, and Vincent detected a streak of tension in that tone. He did not lower his gun.

"You have the glow in your eyes."

"There are many ways to get that without being a SOLDIER," the man replied just as calmly, but he narrowed his eyes slightly, dangerously enough that Vincent's finger tensed around the trigger. "As you should know, if you aren't a SOLDIER either."

Understanding –if the man was speaking truly- was like a fist in the guts. Vincent considered the other's words and attitude very carefully before finally lowering his gun. He kept it in hand, though.

"What do you know of it?" Vincent asked tightly, testing his suspicions, and from the corner of his eye he saw Cid relax, though he kept his spear loosely in one hand. The woman was still looking ready to pounce, glaring at him _accusingly_ , of all things.

"More than I want to," was the answer, and the not-SOLDIER smiled thinly with no amusement at all.

Strangely enough, Vincent was ready to believe what the man was implying, or at least that he was no SOLDIER. There was this shadow, that weight to the shoulders, that could hardly be feigned when talking of the… _alternative_ mako treatments. Still, that only raised even more questions, but he had no desire to pry.

They were still staring at each other when Cid hit the butt of his spear against the floor.

"Alright, enough of this! You," he pointed at Vincent with irritation, "put that overgrown gun away and sit your goddamn ass down so we can talk like fucking normal people. And Tifa, you get Cloud to stop bristling like a bloody wet cat and sit him down too. Now!"

Vincent blinked, startled into bemused obedience by Cid's crude but no-nonsense tone, and looked to see Tifa and Cloud slowly settle down as well with poorly hidden smiles at the pilot's antics. Apparently this type of outburst occurred often.

"Now," Cid continued, and his spear was suddenly gone, retracted back to a size that could fit in the straps around his thigh, and though it was an unusual weapon for space pilots, Vincent could see its benefits, "what was that all about? I know SOLDIERs ain't nothing to cheer about, but that was overkill."

Before he could even start debating about whether he wanted to tell his story to strangers, that woman, Tifa, reached over to sock Cid on the shoulder. The pilot, caught by surprise, started and hit his knee under the table, which only made him swear through what Vincent was positive were three different languages.

"Hey! What the fuck was that for?"

Tifa, despite a grin that was already curling the corners of her mouth, glared at Cid. "I know you have no manners, but you're being ridiculous. Didn't you think before you started yelling that he might be hungry? He just woke up!"

Cid was still cursing under his breath, but he looked embarrassed. A little.

"No need to hit me!" he grumbled, turning to Vincent grudgingly. "You hungry?"

The display of what clearly was a solid enough friendship was baffling, but reassuring at the same time in a way that proved these two weren't here just as hired arms for Shinra's account. Vincent let himself relax minutely and nodded at the pilot's question. The latter promptly  _stomped_  to the canteen.

Once he was out of earshot, Tifa sighed deeply, and the way she eyed him made Vincent wonder if that sigh hadn't really been meant for him. He hadn't forgotten that accusing look she'd granted him while he'd spoken with Cloud, and apparently neither had she.

"Don't take him too seriously, or at least not his curses. He's a good man," she said with a long-suffering smile. "He's just grumpy."

"It…appears to be," he answered carefully. Tifa looked like she'd come to terms with whatever she'd been previously holding against him, or had at least pushed it aside for now in favor of being hospitable. Vincent looked at Cloud, who had been silently unfazed by the conversation.

"He's a good pilot," Cloud added, not exactly emphatically, but his tone was firm.

"I'm the best fucking pilot across the whole damn system!" said pilot exclaimed as he reappeared with a laden tray, smacking it down before Vincent. "But I'm no cook. It's still food though, so I better not hear any complaints!" he huffed, then sat down beside Vincent, reaching up to light himself a cigarette.

The latter looked at the food in question: water, fruits and meat strips that looked right out of ration packs. Still, it  _was_  food –his stomach clenched to eagerly remind him that it'd be grateful for anything edible right now, good or bad- so Vincent poked at it thankfully.

"You shouldn't have sent Hugh away then," Tifa commented, staring with disappointment at the so-called meal Cid had scrounged together.

"I didn't want nobody around, just in case," Cid retorted, shaking his head and looking very pointedly at Vincent.

Who got the hint, but he chewed slowly around a bite of apple to give himself some more time to think. He wasn't inclined to explain his story to complete strangers, but he realized he didn't have much of a choice either.

"I thought he was here to take me back," he finally answered with a nod towards Cloud, dragging the words out reluctantly, watching warily for the upcoming reaction.

But Cloud's eyes only widened fractionally, and he gave Vincent a long, considering look all over again.

Cid quirked an eyebrow. "Take you back where? And for what?"

"Hojo." His clawed fingers twitched violently at the name, and his other hand fisted white-knuckled around the apple he barely stopped himself from crushing. Cloud's reaction was more pronounced than anything so far –which was admittedly not much, but Vincent had learned to be able to  _read_  people-, a tightening of the eyes and brows and a sudden tension that read  _pain_ and _hatred_ clearer than any words. "You know of him?"

Cloud exhaled sharply and forced loose a tight knot of tension between his eyebrows. "I have enough reasons to want to stay well away from him and all of Shinra."

Vincent momentarily forgot his food and leaned forward in sudden interest. "Do you know anything of Sephiroth?" he asked, eyes boring in Cloud's, whose expression went perfectly blank so quickly it could only hide something much stronger. Vincent heard Tifa take a sharp intake of breath.

"It's hard not to," the guy answered with a dismissive shrug that failed its intended purpose due to the sheer tension remaining in his shoulders.

"Indeed," Vincent nodded, unwilling to pursue the subject just yet, but aware that there were things to learn here.

Sephiroth…Vincent ripped a bite out of the hard, dried meat, considering. He had accounts to settle, with that man in the very center of them all. Finding him, or at least finding as much information as possible about him, would lead Vincent to everything he needed to straighten out those long-overdue accounts. And clearly, there was information to be had here.

Cid had been dutifully silent during the exchange, munching around his cigarette and carefully considering everything that was being said. He slapped a hand against the table, startling the others.

"So I'm guessin' you escaped that fucked-up scientist and aren't in any hurry to see his oily mug again, right?" Cid resumed, to which Vincent nodded in affirmation. Though, quite truthfully, he wouldn't mind seeing him again if he could put his gun to his temple and blow his brains out.

"Good! So long as you hate Shinra's rotten guts, you're welcome on my ship until you decide what you wanna do. I'll get you a better room than the med lab annex."

The pilot's honest tone added to Cloud's careful reactions helped convince Vincent that he was not among enemies. Both of their hatred and wariness against Shinra had appeared perfectly genuine, and Cid had so far been hospitable enough in his gruff and cursing way. However, the more important detail had been the pilot's respect. He hadn't asked for more than what was offered, hadn't needled Vincent for information and had accepted what he told as the truth. Cid was a smart man in more ways than one, it appeared.

"Thank you," he finally said, and meant it. And then, almost belatedly, "I'm Vincent Valentine."

Cid grinned lopsidedly. "Welcome aboard."

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He'd recognized those ships. Dimly, he wondered how much of Cid's growing trust he had just lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See Chapter 1

Cid disengaged the auto-pilot and leaned over the console, entering a few commands and coordinates. This area of space was tricky at best and had the unfortunate habit of beating ever damn automatic programming that tested it with swift and nasty surprises that usually blindsided it completely. Cid had tried it once –only once—and had had his ass royally handed to him. So now he was going manual.

So far it was going well, but that didn't mean anything, so he kept his attention on his monitors.

"Are you expecting danger?" Vincent asked beside him, following Cid's looks and carefully scrutinizing the length of the console, then outer space.

The thing about Vincent, Cid had discovered, was that he noticed  _everything_ , especially about people, and he was damn curious -Cid could tell as much, though the man could be worse than a bloody wall most of the time. Vincent just about never asked questions. He only did when it was related to his security, or something vastly impersonal yet still important. Which didn't happen often. So he rarely asked anything.

Cid sat back and shot Vincent a large, confident grin. "Not right now." Vincent raised an eyebrow. "This area's out of Shinra's grubby mitts, but it's a bit tricky to navigate. Nothing to really worry about, though." Because nobody in the universe could outfly Cid Highwind on fair ground. Shinra wasn't fair, but they didn't patrol here either.

Vincent stared back for a moment before nodding. When you got down to it, Cid thought, the guy's eyes weren't like SOLIDERs' at all. They did shine a bit and all, but it was different. More like a background glow than Cloud's flashlights. It didn't make it any less creepy wondering how that had happened, though.

"Tricky? What do you expect?" the gunner asked, returning his gaze to the monitors and screens.

"Anything. Magnetic fields, stray asteroids, monsters, star winds,  _black fucking holes_ , you name it. Thing is, that planet we're headed for is at the tail-end of a pretty fucked up system, and that's the only reason nothing permanent's ever been built in space around here," Cid explained, and a low-danger warning on his screen had him readjust a few settings before sitting back.

"What's coming?"

"Small solar heat wave," Cid snorted dismissively. "I put some shields up and changed the ship's angle, but I probably didn't even need to. The closest sun's pretty damn far, that wave's going to be small by the time it reaches us."

Vincent looked sceptically amused. "You're pretty relaxed, yet you mentioned black holes."

Cid barked a laugh. "They take a whole lot of time to form and the planet broadcasts a warning as soon as they're detected. See that screen?" He jerked a thumb to his left at a small, flickering monitor. "That's the list and location of the identified ones. Aren't many, anyways, but we're still taking a detour to avoid the nastier of 'em. As for the ones that aren't found yet…" Cid shrugged. "They're just too small to bother. You can detect them from far enough to have plenty of time to manoeuvre well and safely out of their influence area. You gotta be one ass of a pilot to get in trouble then!"

Vincent had listened attentively, his head cocked slightly to the side. "You know a lot about space."

"Not like I have a choice," Cid replied. "If I didn't, I wouldn't have made it this long."

"It makes sense," Vincent said, but his voice lacked focus. The gunner looked back outside with that very far-off, almost longing look in his eyes as he stared at something well beyond the stars. "I don't know space."

"Not that many people do, even those who've never stepped on a planet." Cid had met some folks that had never walked out of their space colonies and that had never bothered learning why sometimes the red warning lights flashed and they had to take cover while the pilots and engineers fixed the problem.

"In any case, you're a damn lucky bastard," Cid continued, snapping Vincent back from his thoughts. The man shot him a faintly disbelieving look.

"Lucky?" he repeated, and his tone was dubious and sarcastic.

"Of course! I don't know how long you'd been floating out there in that pod, but you didn't meet anything nasty enough to blast you. That makes you lucky."

Vincent blinked as if he hadn't been expecting that answer. "I guess I was."

There was now a clear opening for the fateful question of exactly why he'd been floating in space in the first place, but Cid didn't take it. He had an inkling as to what some of the answer could be, and if it was anything like Cloud, it would do more harm than good to poke around.

Something suddenly beeped on a monitor and Cid sprang forward, checking the readings and warning signs. Nothing alarming, but he still did a few last preparations. His precautions might be overkill, but so far he'd never heard anyone from his crew complain about his obsessive tendencies to over-protect the ship. It had often enough been the only reason they were still alive.

"Here comes that solar heat wave," he said, and sure enough the ship suddenly  _shuddered,_  just as the deep blackness of space shimmered before a thin film of yellow-orange heat floated by, its contact against the ship's shields making bluish sparks dance across the bay window. Cid could tell by the wave's near transparency that it wouldn't last much longer, but it still made a pretty show.

It was gone before Cid could blink twice, but he still went through his systems to make sure everything was still working as smoothly as it should.

"I…wasn't expecting that."

Cid looked up and across at Vincent, who was looking outside with a hint of that look he got from people who'd never really  _seen_  outer space before and got to experience one of its prettier but more harmless displays.

"What did you think it'd be like?" he asked, poking off a few layers protection now that the wave had passed.

"More destructive," was the even answer as Vincent shrugged his usual poker face back on. Cid stopped a smirk when he thought it still looked a little awed, though.

"Trust me, if you'd been out there when it hit, you would have thought it pretty destructive," he said instead, stretching his arms up to pop a few vertebrae back in place. They were close to the planet now, although it was so small he could barely make it out from the other stars, and if he could make it without more disturbances, he'd be a happy man.

Cid realized he'd somehow stepped on the guy's toes when Vincent's face went blank and his clawed hand twitched. He frowned, not knowing what he'd said that could have hurt or angered Vincent, but cursed Shinra a few times for good measure. It was never that hard blaming everything on them anyways.

Before Cid could ponder on his inability to comfort people in any way, the door hissed open behind him and he heard the muffled sound of boots stepping inside, along with the creak of weighted leather. Cid rolled his eyes and peered over his shoulder at Cloud; the kid was carrying his sword.

"Something wrong?" Cid asked, ignoring how Vincent and him exchanged one good, long weighing look.

Cloud shook his head. "No. Are we near?"

"Just half an hour out before we have to release your ship. If we get lucky and space leaves us alone."

"It isn't so bad once you get close to the planet," Cloud pointed out.

Cid snorted his opinion of that. "No offence, but it's always bad around here. I get something new every time I make this trip."

"You didn't have to ferry us."

Cid shrugged with one shoulder. "There's always good business for a mechanic over there. No loss for me."

It had been an interesting discussion, convincing both Cloud and Tifa that he could afford carrying their asses through the hazardous system to their last delivery pickup before they closed their loop. It was true that the planet always welcomed space mechanics openly, especially ones with no love for Shinra, but more importantly it provided him with the perfect excuse to keep Cloud on board a little while longer to help making sense out of that pod and its inhabitant. Not that they'd gotten very far.

"You said the planet was one large, protected park," Vincent stated, but it sounded a little like a question, too.

"The Universal Nature Preservation Park. Built it there cause Shinra can't harvest any stars around here and stays out of the system, but it also means economy isn't really strong and they're always having trouble keeping their qualified specialists." It made Cid grumpy just thinking how high the price was of living in a Shinra-free system. It shouldn't be like that.

Silence settled in the cabin, and little wonder, with both Cloud and Vincent in the same room, but Cid didn't have time to ponder on it. His radar had started picking up small signals that had nothing to do with space debris. He ran a scan, but he already knew what would come up. Space monsters. Just what he didn't feel like dealing with right now. Grumbling to himself, he entered a few commands and opened the com links to bark battle orders. Cloud peered over his shoulder at the radar readings.

"It's a small pack of around a dozen. Can you tell what kind?"

"Probably black bats or some basic bombs. There's not much else around here. Hopefully they won't attract anything bigger."

"Bigger?" Vincent repeated questioningly.

Cid nodded. "Sometimes a few dragons follow the black bat colonies over here for a good hunt. I only ever saw one, but I'm not taking chances." He twisted around in his seat and settled his eyes on Cloud. "Show Vincent into a fighter suit. You have to be ready to go outside if some of 'em get past the guns."

Cloud blinked his surprise. "Aren't you coming?" They'd fought together before, but this particular situation was new.

"Not in this area I won't. I need to stay here."

There was a moment of hesitation during which Vincent stared at Cid and Cloud stared at Vincent and Cid just munched around a few curses. Finally Cloud nodded and Vincent followed a second later.

Cid turned his attention back to his control panel. Sending Vincent out to fight might not be the wisest ideas, but Cid was ready to believe he wouldn't use the confusion to shoot anyone in the back. He hoped.

 

 

He'd used fighter suits before, so Vincent could tell the quality of the one he was using, even if it wasn't the best out there. The simulated gravity was set at the perfect level to give him his full speed and range of movements, aside from the points in his boots that never let him jump too far away from the ship that he lost connection and was stuck floating. He did have small boosters to navigate if that happened, but using those in the middle of battle was not well advised.

Since their sortie, they'd disposed of two bombs, but two more had escaped the guns. Their shells were very tough and Vincent had already emptied more than one clip on them, but they weren't indestructible. It was merely a job of trying to keep them from getting too close to the hull when they decided to explode, but close enough for the others to fight.

And, as far as he'd currently seen, they knew how to fight.

His instincts told him to keep especially careful watch of Cloud. The moment they were outside the man had pounced on the closest bomb like a chocobo on a green, moving with all the speed and strength that the mako in his blood suggested he had. Tifa –she'd joined them as soon as she heard about the monsters- was also good, and the two moved as if they'd fought together enough to be able to do so efficiently. Either they were more than they pretended to be, or Vincent had been asleep so long he'd missed how space had grown to be so dangerous even civilians were forced to become seasoned fighters.

It was a shame Cid had to stay inside to pilot the ship through the dangerous system. He would have liked to see exactly what the man was capable of with his spear.

The bomb before him inflated suddenly, grinning grotesquely, and Vincent forced it away with a few shots and jumped well back. Before it could follow the bomb exploded, its heat wave hitting Vincent just enough to make him stagger but not enough to damage. He looked around, gun raised, but there were no more monsters in view.

"Are there any left?" he asked. He could just make out the torso of someone standing lower down the ship's side, and from his pose he guessed it was Cloud. His inactivity itself told him that that area was clear.

"Radar's clear," Cid answered through the static of the com links. "Let's get you all back – wait!"

"What's wrong? Are there more?" Tifa asked, but she sounded too anxious.

"Six, four small and two big,  _fast_."

"Dragon?"

"Too fucking fast, and they don't travel in groups. Back inside, now!" Cid ordered, and Vincent turned towards the hatch. He could hear Cid yelling at his team through the links, and the ship lurched under his feet, picking up speed. Vincent broke into a run, understanding perfectly that as long as there were people on its hull, the ship would not be able to run from whatever was coming.

Apparently Cid had not overestimated the threat. Not six feet from the hatch door, just after Tifa had disappeared inside the ship, something hit the hull close enough that he was flung back in the air, the gravity points in his boots straining to bring him back down. Vincent readied his gun even before he landed and was just fast enough to see a ship curve around the hull and fire at the other side. The ship rocked under the assault, but Vincent stood frozen.

"Damnit, Vincent, what the fuck are you waiting for? I can't raise the shields while you're standing there!" Cid cursed through the links, sirens blaring in the background, and Vincent broke out of his thoughts to run back and down the hatch.

He'd recognized those ships. Dimly, he wondered how much of Cid's growing trust he had just lost.

 

 

Swearing up and down, Cid jumped out of his seat and ran his hands over the commands. The shield that had finally sprung up was heat-sensitive, and as the airship rocked under a second assault, its graphics showed it was already under heavy strain. Cid raised more covers and sent orders down to the engine room, and then there were more hits, all from the same direction, and that felt too much like a broadside fire for comfort.

Cloud, Vincent and Tifa burst in the room behind him, but they kept an admirable cool head as they watched Cid go through his commands. Before they could decide to ask, the pilot rounded on Cloud.

"Go find me that damn cyborg and get him connected to engine room's com link," he growled, and would've snapped some more at Cloud's amused nod if the kid hadn't promptly left the room as he'd been asked. As it was, he didn't have time to waste.

Vincent stepped back to stay out of Cid's way. "How bad is it?"

The ship suddenly lurched forward as it boosted to faster speeds, and Cid felt a hit that probably should have caught them square graze the tail of the ship.

"It's more than fucking bad! We've got four fighters and two heavy artillery assaulters on our tail!" Where was that stupid cyborg when you needed it?

"Are they space pirates?" Tifa asked.

"Those ain't space pirates ships, they're too fucking good," Cid growled, and if he didn't have to stay right where he was, he'd gladly go to a battle station himself and shoot the bastards down.

Vincent stared down at the controls, seeming to consider something, and suddenly straightened, his face heavy with tightly controlled anger. "Shinra."

Cid's hands froze over his console. "What?"

"I recognized them." His hand hovering near his gun, Vincent turned for the door. "I'm going to help shoot them down."

"I'll go as well," Tifa declared, and there was so much fury and anger and hate in her tone that Cid was taken aback despite the situation. Then again, it was understandable.

"Get them the fuck off my ass!" Cid cursed liberally. Of all the people to attack him, it had to be Shinra. He had an ugly idea why they were here, but he didn't let himself dwell on it for now. It would be useless if it got them all killed.

The com links, heavy with the dimmed voices of yelling crew members from various sections of the ship, crackled, and suddenly the noise was covered by a direct feed.

"Hey Captain! What's going on?"

Cid wasn't happy to hear Cait Sith's annoying voice, but at least now the cyborg would be useful.

"We're under fire, damn you! Cloud's ship is slowing us down, I need more power to the engines!"

"But Captain, they're already at full power!"

"I don't care where you get it so long as it's not the shields, but get me some speed!"

"I'll find something, Captain."

The com link snapped back to the general chaos and Cid returned his attention to his console. Failure signs where starting to pop up everywhere, and if they didn't get some speed on the bastards, the shields were going to fail completely. After that happened, they wouldn't last long under the assaulters' heavy fire.

The direct feed opened again, this time coming from one of the battle stations.

"Cid, cut my ship," came Cloud's even tone.

Cid growled under his breath; the shields were failing, there were still two fighters and an assaulter out there, but sixty percent of his guns were down. He needed the speed, but Cait Sith wasn't providing.

"Fuck, I can't do that!" he cursed, because losing Cloud's ship was losing him and Tifa's only livelihood, and he couldn't bring himself to just cut it off and leave it for scavengers to enjoy. Shinra had stolen enough from them all already.

"Do it," Cloud continued. "It's more important that we get away. Tifa will agree."

Cursing some more, Cid hesitated until the shields were holding by a thread before entering the fateful command. With an awful grating sound and a shudder as the airship recalibrated itself without its additional load, Cloud's vessel was cut off from his own. The Highwind picked up speed, and for a moment the fighters were left behind, but Cid's victory was short-lived. It was obvious the ships –even the fucking assaulter!- wouldn't be shaken off so easily.

"Fuck the bastards!" Cid yelled, and when they were down to one last fighter and that bloody assaulter, with only thirty percent of the guns working and thus leaving tons of blind spots across the ship, the shields finally failed. If it hadn't been for that Cid might have tried his odds, but without the shields it would only take four or five well-aimed hits from the assaulter and they'd be going down.

There was only one option left, really. Cid didn't know if it would work in the condition his ship was in, especially with how heavy the fire had been around the engines room and thrusters, but Cait Sith had improved it a little under Cid's strict supervision, so they might just have a chance.

Cid opened all links to full. The din was deafening, but he cut the incoming communications so that there was only him on the lines.

"Hold down to something, people, I'm going to space hop!" he yelled, and waited about two seconds before reaching for the appropriate commands. There was another hit from the assaulter, straight on his tail, and damn if he was starting to think they were trying to stall him more than kill him, but thankfully it only damaged an auxiliary booster. He could do without that one.

He didn't give Shinra another chance to shoot. His ship had never had enough power to hop out of the attackers' reach to begin with, but with any luck he'd get close enough to the planet to crash-land and escape. Hopefully.

There was a second of sudden silence as the system activated, of time being stilled, and then his ship  _hopped._ Lurching just like a frog's leap, the Highwind shuddered from one point of space to another in one second, but it was one second that lasted a long time, like minutes had been stretched, and Cid watched the stars black out before him as the ship hung as if suspended before lurching back to a stop.

And then suddenly there was noise again, sirens blaring deafeningly and crew members calling through the links, but Cid ignored all that as he rushed along his console.

His field of view was completely filled by blue and white and green, with the rare clusters of blinking lights. The planet was  _there_ , and he had only seconds to proceed with a crash landing before gravity caught them and they went down at the wrong angle. Cid cut all communications; he needed to concentrate.

The ship started rumbling and shaking badly as white-hot flames flicked to life and licked the edges of the window. Cid tried controlling his ship's angle as the nose kept wanting to dip until gravity finally caught them square and brought them crashing down mercilessly.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If Cloud told you there was something in the grass, then the chances were high that there indeed was something in the grass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See Chapter 1

Cid almost wished he'd stayed unconscious when he woke up to battle drums playing against his skull. He couldn't remember much for a while, not until he felt something pull under his arm and heard a soft but deep voice calling his name, and then it all snapped back into painful, confusing focus.

"Cid? Are you alright?"

The pilot willed himself to answer, but since it came out as a groan instead he had to try again.

"Yeah," he finally managed to croak. Damn, his head hurt.

"We need to go outside." Cloud's face swam into focus as he leaned down to help Cid stand up on frustratingly shaky legs. After a moment of sickening dizziness he was able to stand mostly on his own.

With just a little urging from Cloud, Cid was able to make his way through his ship, avoiding the marks of destruction and forcing himself not to think about it just yet. Not that his brain was willing to think much at all, anyways, and it was struggling enough with the fact that he was  _alive_  and not a splattered mess on the bay window. Somehow, in the madness that had been the crash landing, he'd managed to keep the ship's nose up.

By the time they reached a breach in the hull that was not bloody supposed to be there, Cid's vision had settled properly and the pounding in his head had become a muted throbbing. The light from outside sent pinpricks of pain flashing behind his eyes and Cid straightened from Cloud's support with a groan, squinting until he could get used to the bright sun. Shera was by his side in a second, favoring her right arm but otherwise looking just a little ruffled.

"Are you alright?"

Cid waved her worried inquiry away. Enough of this. "Did everyone make it?" The crew was assembled a few feet away from the ship, sitting or standing and with only a few being attended to. He could see Tifa taking care of one of the engineers as she looked up to offer him a relieved smile. Everyone looked alive.

Shera nodded hurriedly. "Yes. Most of the injured are the crewmen that were in the engines room during the fight. The crash just decked a few heads," she reported, and shot a glance at Cid's own head injury. The corner of her lips quirked up in a brave attempt at an ironic smile.

"Good. Make sure everyone's being taken care of until the park's people get here. Shouldn't be too long now," Cid groused. It was hard not to notice an airship crashing in your own backyard. The rangers would not be happy.

"Understood," Shera nodded. She didn't move away. "Captain, let me check your head."

Before he could protest, Shera had stepped to his left and was brushing away blood-clogged hair so she could inspect his injury. Cid jerked his head away, but she just snatched it right back.

"Damnit, I'm fine, leave me alone! I told you to take care of the others." He tried moving away again, but she was expecting it this time. The resulting pain that skittered up his skull convinced him not to try again.

"You told me to make sure everyone's being taken care of. That includes you, Captain. Now sit down on that rock so I can bandage your head," she ordered.

Cid cursed liberally as she browbeat him into sitting down and letting himself be mothered over. He searched for his cigarettes, but the packet was missing. Damn. It'd be a nice distraction from the push and pull being operated around his injury.

Shera was done quickly; just a simple bandage to stop the blood and prevent an infection. The park had medics, and from what Cid could see of Marty around Shera's hip, he wasn't ready to bother his own medic for so little. The guy looked like he needed more help than him.

Cid stood up to go and check on all of his crew as soon as she was done, but suddenly there was a rustle of red and black just at the edge of his vision. He turned to see Vincent standing there, expression carefully guarded. Except for a few tears in his clothing, it didn't look like the crash had touched him at all.

"I'm sorry for your ship," Vincent said, looking over Cid's shoulder at the metal carcass of the Highwind. Cid didn't. He'd make sure the actual people operating his ship were safe and staying that way before he let himself worry and hate Shinra even more.

"Don't apologize, it's not your fault." Cid's hand itched upwards until he remembered he didn't have cigarettes any more. He stuffed it back in his pocket and leveled a heavy stare on Vincent. "Is it?"

The gunman shook his head, but he had a slightly guilty look, like he was certainly not the problem, but still part of it. "I didn't call those ships, but they might have been there because of me." Vincent met his eyes and did not flinch away.

Cid snorted. "I find you in an old Shinra pod, and then Shinra attacks my ship and concentrates its fire on my thrusters. It's not that hard to figure out," he ground out, sarcastic, and didn't care enough to try and smooth his tone. "What I want to know is why they're on your tail."

Vincent broke eye contact and looked at the ship a moment, indecision and unwillingness to speak clear on his features. Cid didn't particularly care anymore. The Highwind was  _down_ , and Shinra was behind it. Again. He was reluctant to think Vincent was an undercover agent –it just sounded off—but he couldn't brush off the possibility just yet.

"I imagine Hojo wants me back," he finally answered.

"I know that already," Cid reminded him. He hadn't forgotten the little chat they'd all had in the cafeteria. "I'm wondering why he'd be so keen to have you back."

Of course he wouldn't get an answer. Cid watched Vincent watch the ship, his eyes slowly drifting towards the more-or-less injured. He wasn't ignoring his question, but showing his reluctance to answer. Was it something too personal or painful, or just something Cid was better off not knowing for his own safety? He clenched his jaw like he would while chewing around a cigarette.

"Fucking bloody hell, don't tell me!" Cid snarled, throwing his hands up in frustration. "I bet I can guess half of it from the looks you and Cloud throw each other anyways."

Vincent raised one eyebrow at that, but did not comment.

"I'll make do without the why, but I still don't know the how," Cid continued, no less unnerved. "The pod's homing device and tracking systems were all shot, you were floating blind and almost unseen. If Shinra knows you're here, that means we've got a spy on our hands." Cid crossed his arms and stared hard at Vincent to make sure he wasn't misunderstood. "As far as I'm concerned, that could still be you."

There was a minute twitch at the corner of Vincent's eyes, like a hidden flinch, but otherwise he remained completely fucking stonefaced under the accusation. It made Cid irritable.

"That's only fair," Vincent nodded, and what was he supposed to say to that?

"Good," Cid replied lamely. He left Vincent there and stomped towards the rest of his crew.

The ship had crashed in the middle of some kind of plain, with grass as high as his hip swaying in a warm breeze. The guys had trampled a small area so they could settle down to tend to injuries or just rest. Closest to him, Tifa was now kneeling beside Hugh, Cloud standing at her shoulder but looking across at the stretching plain of grass before him.

"How's the man?" Cid asked as he stepped closer. Hugh opened his eyes and cracked a gap-toothed smile.

"With a woman like that taking care of me? I couldn't be better, Captain," the man replied, and his voice was strong enough that Cid didn't worry any further.

"If you're feeling that good, I'll just go check on the others," Tifa said diplomatically, tightening the bandage around his arm sharply. Hugh yelped in pain but laughed just as quickly.

"Sorry, sorry!"

Cid rolled his eyes at Hugh's age-old antics and looked over at Cloud. The man was still staring at something far away, wearing a little frown Cid knew and didn't like.

"What is it?"

Cloud didn't look at Cid. "There's something in the grass, moving closer."

If Cloud told you there was something in the grass, then the chances were high that there indeed was something in the grass. Cid paid it closer attention, but it was hard to make out anything from the near-constant swaying. Tifa rose from Hugh's side to look as well. Cid was about to speak again, but then he caught it. It was a small movement, one that tried to follow the rippling grass, but whatever was out there was too big not to create a minimum of disturbance. Whatever it was, it was unlikely to be human. The rangers wouldn't bother crouching down and hiding like that.

"You think it's dangerous?" Tifa asked, flexing her fingers back in her fighting gloves.

"This  _is_  a nature preservation park. They've got all sorts of animals out here," Cid mentioned, but he still took out his spear. Unlike her, he wouldn't fancy meeting a hungry predator with only his bare hands as defense.

"That won't be necessary."

They all started at the low, raw voice that spoke from the grass. So, whatever was coming could speak. It didn't reassure Cid any.

"Who's there?" he called back, keeping his spear leveled towards the source of the voice.

"Please lower your weapons. Feel free to keep them in hand, but I will not show myself only to have a blade put to my throat," the voice answered, entirely too reasonable.

"Why would we trust you so far?"

"You shouldn't, but neither should I. You are the reason we're having Shinra troops impose on us. Now please, lower your weapons so we can talk without my having to hide."

Cid still didn't want to do as the voice requested, but Cloud lowered his sword before he could argue more, letting the tip rest against the ground. Tifa put a gentling hand on his arm. Grumbling, Cid raised his spear and let it rest against his shoulder.

"Come out now," Cloud said evenly, his frown still in place. Cid wondered what was going to come out; what kind of person or ranger would go through all that trouble to hide and surprise them? And for what purpose?

The grass rustled and finally parted at the bottom to reveal the head of a big, red cat. Or dog. Or whatever freak mix of both. Cid took an instinctive step back, and now understood why he'd been asked to lower his weapon. The animal studied them in turn with its one good eye, then stepped fully out of the grass and sat down, unconcerned.

"I'm RedXIII. I'm a ranger of this park, so you have nothing to worry about from my part," the cat-dog spoke, professional and  _intelligent._

"You talk!" Tifa exclaimed in surprise, stating the stupidly obvious. That RedXIII had said quite a few sentences before revealing himself.

For all his space experience, Cid had never encountered any animal or monster that could talk. He stared dumbly at RedXIII, at the feathers and tattoos and golden fucking bracelets, and realized only a little late that if the guy could think and speak, then he could certainly take offense at being stared at like that. He forced himself to look back into Red's eye, noticing in passing the little communication device sitting snug in his ear. Uh, so he really was a ranger.

"You can stare all you want later, and yes, I do speak," RedXIII assured them with wry humor. Clearly, it wasn't the first time he was in such a situation. "But for now I'd like to meet the captain of this spaceship."

"That's me!" Cid, jarred out of his surprised staring, straightened his shoulders. "Cid Highwind's the name."

RedXIII frowned for a moment and tilted his head. The ear with the device twitched, and a moment later he nodded to himself.

"You've worked with us a few times." For the UNPP, that was an unofficial admission of trust. RedXIII turned his head a little to regard Cloud carefully, questioning.

"Cloud Strife, from the Strife Delivery Service. I was scheduled for a pickup at 0800 hours, your time," the swordsman answered. After a moment, he returned his sword to his back. Cid was not so trusting yet, and besides, his spear was nice and snug against his shoulder, so he might as well keep it there.

RedXIII did that earflick-thing again, and Cid remembered that those devices were used to share information with headquarters. They could probably hear everything that was being said right now.

"Confirmed." RedXIII regarded Cloud carefully before slowly stretching his neck. Cloud tensed visibly, but all the animal did was take a few clear, obvious sniffs before fully settling back on his haunches.

Cloud's eyes were narrowed dangerously, his hands deceptively relaxed at his sides. "Why did you do that?"

Unruffled, RedXIII shrugged his massive shoulders in something like an apology. "You smell strongly of mako, but not of SOLDIER. That's good." His single eye swiveled to Vincent standing close by as he listened to the exchange. "I'd imagine it's the same for you."

This staring and sniffing business was getting on his nerves. Cid harrumphed loudly and crossed his arms over his spear. "That's Vincent, and this is Tifa," he growled. "We've got no one from SOLDIER on our team, so you don't have to be so suspicious." He didn't mention the fact that they more than probably housed a Shinra spy. He wasn't about to antagonize them. "Now, what's that you said earlier about Shinra troops?"

The ranger waited a beat before letting the matter drop. "Not long after you crashed, we had two battle-worn fighter ships force-landing. We've been holding them back and delaying them," RedXIII smiled a fang-y, very sharp-toothed smile, "-but we've received warning transmissions that they're sending more here."

Cid swore colorfully, and to give his hands something to do, snapped his spear back into its retracted form to put it back in its sheath. "Damn it! They're not giving up!"

"Whatever's happened, tell it quickly, then," RedXIII urged. "I need to know why Shinra is after you before deciding if we're going to help."

And thank god for fellow Shinra-opposition. Cid launched into his narrative, making it short but not hiding anything. He had a feeling that this RedXIII fellow would sniff any lie out anyways. He had Vincent and Cait Sith –little idiot had stayed caught in the ship's busted engines room—come to fill the few missing holes, though he carefully omitted the touchier parts about Vincent. When it came to the crash, however, Cid was roughly reminded that it was his Highwind that was lying there, maybe a complete wreck. A strong surge of hatred and violence tensed his muscles and he had to clench down hard not to lash out at anything or anybody. He still let himself curse all the way back to a few generations. Fucking Shinra!

RedXIII listened patiently, asking few questions. He remained silent for a few moments when Cid was done, thinking, before twitching his ear again.

"I'm bringing them to you. Can you send chocobo doubles?" He was speaking to whoever was connected to that earpiece, and Cid didn't like not knowing who was answering and what was being told. "Alright, we'll move as fast as possible." RedXIII turned his eye up at Cid and stood up. "I'm going to bring you to the closest shelter and hide you. Medical help is being sent as we speak and a chocobo unit is going to meet us along the way to speed things up. You have five minutes to go through your ship and grab anything useful before we leave. We have to go fast so the rangers will have enough time to erase your tracks before Shinra gets out here."

"So you're helping us?" Cid asked, just to make sure. He was already backing up towards his crew and the ship.

"For now. A final decision hasn't been made," RedXIII answered.

"Better than nothing," Cid grumbled and promptly turned to his men. Most already had their attention on RedXIII and him, so it was easy to bellow a few orders. That done, he grabbed Caith Sith by the collar and ran back inside his ship.

If he was going to abandon his precious Highwind to Shinra's tender mercies, he did not intend to leave anything for them to pilfer aside from dirty crewman socks. Good thing he'd installed emergency backup and termination codes on his last trip.

 

 

The chocobo's swaying, fast-paced gait would be somewhat soothing if Vincent allowed himself to relax, but that was a rather hard thing to do while fleeing to shelter with Shinra on their heels, especially when he strongly suspected that they would be after him. He had no wish to go back to Hojo, not if he'd retaken interest in this particular experiment.

So far there had been no sign of Shinra. The rangers had met up with them, setting up the chocobos in lines of two and hustling them forward at a fast but careful pace. They did not speak much and barely ever answered questions directed at them as they moved around them in shifts, covering their tracks and scouting for possible dangers.

Beside him, Cid was riding his own bird in silence, eyes set on RedXIII's bobbing, luminous tail that did not set fire to anything. For all he claimed to be a man of space and mechanics, the pilot looked perfectly comfortable on the chocobo, as if he'd ridden often before. Vincent was sharply reminded of exactly what that man had lost because of him and his thoughts turned grim. He had to find the spy that had somehow sneaked a communication to Shinra past Cid. His continuing liberty and safety depended on it, and he wouldn't be able to count on Cid's hatred for Shinra to help him for long if the informant wasn't found.

That brought him to think about why exactly Cid hated Shinra so much. Vincent knew the company wasn't always well-liked, but their rule was not tyrannical unless you stood out. Most citizens were happy to buy their energy and turn their eyes away from the fishier things happening around them.

"Cid," Vincent began, causing the pilot to start in surprise. He'd been deep in thoughts. "Why do you hate Shinra?"

Cid looked at him strangely for a moment and Vincent half expected him to refuse to answer, but the pilot sighed deeply and looked forward at something beyond his bird's crest.

"I was hired by Shinra to work on the first ship that was supposed to be able to go in hyperspeed for long periods of time. To go travel in fucking deep space for the first time!" Cid's face briefly lit up with excitement and passion before turning sour again. "An accident happened and the project was jus' abandoned. Instead they started concentrating more on space hopping and mako harvesting." Cid snorted loudly, angry. "Then they called me again, but to requisition the Highwind for whatever business of theirs. As if I'd just hand it over!"

"You worked for Shinra," Vincent said, a little surprised. The way Cid spoke about the company, he would never have imagined the man to have had connections with them before.

"Dumbest mistakes in my whole fucking life. I was blinded with the promise of deep space exploration." Cid made a frustrated noise and tugged just a little too hard on the reins, making his chocobo  falter.

Then they were two to have made that very, very dumb mistake. Vincent shook his head minutely. He wondered how the pilot would react if he were to know he'd once been a Turk.

"They never picked up the project?"

"Just let it rot. Whatever's left of the ship's still moored to its construction site, even! Pisses me off," Cid snapped.

Vincent let the matter drop, unwilling to anger Cid even more. He thought he understood now why Cid hated the company, beyond its doubtful politics. They had crushed his dream.

After a few minutes of uneventful riding, RedXIII suddenly stopped, causing the chocobo line to halt abruptly with a few startled warks and questioning shouts. RedXIII turned his head to Cid as some of the rangers around them heeled their chocobos forward in broad, sweeping arcs.

"This is the shelter. Please dismount, the birds can't follow you in."

At first Vincent could see nothing that even closely resembled a shelter, but after careful scrutiny, he noticed the low roof of a pale building no higher than the grass itself. He dismounted with the others, giving the reins to a ranger, and stepped forward. There was a narrow slope mostly hidden by the tall grass that dug into the ground to connect with a door a little shorter than Vincent. The rest of the ground was level, meaning the building had to be underground. The shelter itself would remain hidden to a quick search, but would not be impossible to find for those in need of it.

"Only six can enter at a time," RedXIII instructed in a voice loud enough to carry to all the assembled crewmen. "The more badly injured first, please. And you, Captain." RedXIII walked down the small slope. The door hissed open with no discernible signal and the talking beast sat beside it, waiting.

It took three turns to bring everyone inside. Vincent went in last, with Cloud and Tifa and the last crewmen. The first floor of the shelter revealed to be an elevator that shuddered and groaned as it carried them deeper underground for a good few minutes before stuttering to a jarring stop. The state of the machinery reminded Vincent of the planet's political and financial position, but he was somewhat impressed that they could still manage functional, underground shelters with trusty power lines despite all that.

The room the elevator opened onto was large enough to accommodate a dozen individuals, more if a few were willing to sit on the floor or lounge against the wall. A single, long table, a small humming refrigerator, running water and two doors were the sole furnishings and commodities of the shelter. This place was not meant to be lived in, so it was enough.

Cid was slumped against a wall, arms crossed and glowering. His pain and anger for his airship were very obvious. The chairs at the table were all taken by the more injured of the crewmen, so Vincent went and leaned on the wall beside Cid.

He didn't know what to say, or if it was wise to say anything at all. He was not an avid conversationalist as it was, but the silence was heavy around Cid, sour and tense.

"Make yourself comfortable," Cid finally growled, resolving that particular issue. "We ain't leaving for a while." His hand jerked up towards his missing cigarettes but found only a bloodied bandage, successfully dragging more curses out of the irate and undoubtedly tired pilot.

"Have they decided to help us beyond this?"

"Can't say. That bloke says we're waiting for some leader of this part of the park. He'll be the one to decide."

Vincent considered this. If this planet disliked relations with Shinra, it might be difficult to enlist their help if they ever revealed the possible existence of a spy among them. So far Cid had managed to dance around that problem, but Vincent wasn't convinced that it would still be possible under a more thorough investigation. Yet, if the park hated Shinra, would they still just hand them over to the mutually hated company?

It would all depend on the person they were waiting for. Fortunately they didn't have to wait too long. Just a few minutes after they'd all settled down, the elevator doors grated open and a young woman stepped inside. She wore a serviceable uniform in tan colors, the sturdy type that would see her through a few days spent out of doors, but her hair was surprisingly long, even when braided. A staff was bound to her back. She surveyed the room carefully as RedXIII rose to greet her, a small smile playing at the corner of her lips.

Was it his imagination, or did that smile freeze when she spotted Cloud? Vincent filed that information for later consideration and leaned off the wall.

"I'm sorry to have made you all wait. I'm Aerith Gainsborough, in charge of this little part of the park. Cid Highwind?"

"That's me," Cid answered, his glower dimmed by surprise and perplexity.

"I know the essential. You can tell me the rest." She nodded towards one of the two doors.

Cid glanced at Vincent quickly, his confusion clear, but he went for the door nonetheless. Vincent followed, and a quick look from Cid herded Tifa and Cloud as well. Miss Gainsborough didn't seem to mind who came, so long as it wasn't the whole crew. She closed the door just after RedXIII and gave them a reassuring smile.

"Sit down where you can, make yourself comfortable, though I'm hoping this won't take too long," Aerith said, waving slightly at the accommodations in question. The room was one large dormitory, with four sets of bunk beds. Vincent opted for the wall again, on the opening side of the door.

"Depends on what you want to know," Cid shrugged, letting himself fall on a squeaky mattress.

"I'll cut to the chase, then," Aerith agreed. Despite her serious tone of voice, she still managed to sound, if not cheerful, at least definitively positive. "Shinra attacked you, possibly to capture rather than destroy, which made you crash land here as a last resort," Aerith summarized. "What would they be after?"

Vincent saw Cid hesitate before he started stuttering a lame reply that basically told her 'we don't know' in far too many words to be convincing. If she had half a brain, she would see through it immediately, and her calling his lie might complicate matters. He hadn't wanted to say anything, but as he'd thought before, it might just be unavoidable. He restrained a sigh. This wouldn't be news to anybody save Aerith and RedXIII. When had he become such public knowledge?

"It might be because of me," he interrupted Cid, who stopped to gape at him. Vincent continued before the pilot could protest. "My arrival on Cid's ship coincides with Shinra's attack." He wasn't going to say more. Let her think what she wants.

"Oh." Aerith stared at him, her face now completely empty of any of her previous cheerfulness. It felt like her eyes –too green, too  _deep_ —were seeing right through him, peeling away every single one of his barriers to reveal his most well-hidden secrets. The beasts stirred within him, uneasy, and he could feel Galian gnawing at the edge for control. Something in this woman upset them, but not in a violent way. They were curious. "I see."

Though he was careful not to show it, he was surprised by her response. He had expected more questions, confusion and maybe even sudden suspicion, not this wide-eyed, pained understanding. His words could have meant anything.

"I see," she repeated, nodding to herself. Her brow was scrunched in  _sympathy_ , of all things. "It's just as well that we've been holding off Shinra. Don't worry," she continued, her smile returning a little, "we won't let them have you."

Somehow, she knew something about this whole mess. Her eyes drifted to Cloud briefly, unconsciously, but this time it was worry and fear etched so deep it couldn't be hidden that tightened her features. The swordsman didn't react to the brief look. Aerith was just another stranger.

"So you're helping us for good?" Cid asked. Vincent dragged his attention away from this peculiar display and looked back at the pilot. His face was sagging with exhaustion and his brow was pinched in a small grimace of pain. He needed rest, at the very least. No doubt his injury wasn't as light as the stubborn man wanted to believe.

Aerith nodded decisively. All traces of what she'd felt as she'd looked at Cloud were gone. "I'll do everything I can. But first, how do you think Shinra knew where to find you?" she asked, looking back at Vincent. Her eyes were probing, questioning. Asking for the honest, ugly truth. He could imagine himself telling her if she asked the right questions.

"It might be a spy," Vincent answered evenly. And there it was, this small hitch that could be blown out of proportion and cost them their only allies, but the only thing Aerith did was hum thoughtfully. She was not easily impressed or scared.

"I don't want to suspect any of my crew, been working with them too long, but anything's possible at this point." Cid shook his head slowly, his voice tight with anger. "I don't know how anybody could've passed a transmission to Shinra with my ship without me knowing about it, either."

"What about that cyborg I saw?" Aerith prodded, crossing her arms as she considered.

"Cait Sith?" Tifa echoed, surprised. "He's been a lot of help!"

"I checked him. He ain't got the equipment for long range communications by himself. Besides, the Highwind would've picked it up immediately."

There was only one suspect left. Vincent waited for the accusation, but it didn't come. Instead, Aerith shook her head and raked back her hair.

"It's too late for that now. There's no communication device in here that could transmit to space, so if it's a crew member, they're neutralized. If it's Cait Sith after all-"

"Can't be him! Told you I fucking checked."

Aerith smiled patiently at Cid and otherwise ignored his offended outburst. "—As impossible as it is, if it's him, we'll know soon enough. He'll be able to tell Shinra exactly where we are. We have to hurry."

For the first time since they'd arrived, Cloud spoke. "We need to get off this planet as soon as possible. Without being noticed."

Tifa frowned. "But if you have some control on Shinra troops here, wouldn't it be simpler to hide? They'll be everywhere in space by now."

"If we oppose Shinra too openly, they'll only send more troops to subdue us and do whatever they want. The park will be in danger," Aerith replied, shaking her head.

"But we cannot bring all the crew members. A ship big enough for all of them will be immediately noticed," RedXIII pointed out.

"True, but we can't leave them either."

If Shinra was after him, it wouldn't be a problem. "If we leave quickly enough and they follow me, then they might just ignore the others completely. They would be safer without us," Vincent intervened. They wouldn't be entirely safe from Shinra, but they had a better chance of being overlooked this way.

"They can stay to watch over my Highwind," Cid agreed, though he didn't sound particularly enthused with the idea of leaving his ship behind.

"That's settled," Cloud concluded before more objections could be raised. He rose from the bed he'd been sitting on and looked at Aerith. "What's your plan?"

The woman's grin became impish. "For now, we ride."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cid appraised the ship with a critical eye, taking in the lumpy hull, the oddly assorted metal plates, the atmosphere-burnt sides and the immaculate propeller engines, half as big as the ship itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See Chapter 1

Cid appraised the ship with a critical eye, taking in the lumpy hull, the oddly assorted metal plates, the atmosphere-burnt sides and the immaculate propeller engines, half as big as the ship itself. The little bugger had to be more solid than it looked from the outside, to be able to resist the strain from so much power. That was odd enough by itself, but there was something else that nagged him about the ship's design, something he couldn't quite identify but that reinforced his certainty that this was no simple delivery shuttle.

"It might not look like much, but it's fast. We use ships like those when we travel to the colony," Aerith explained as she helped the one ranger that had accompanied them gather everyone's bird.

Straightening from his inspection of the underside, Cid pointedly looked at the deserted field stretching in all directions. The grass was almost as tall as his bloody shoulders, and the ship just happened to be settled in a convenient little depression between two hillocks. Yeah, great place for business travels.

"S'long as it's too fast for Shinra." He doubted it, but he hoped they'd think they were dead or injured in the crash, or not already on their merry way.

"Can you fly it?"

"I can fly anything with an engine," he declared unashamedly. "Just get your asses on board already!"

Aerith gave him a half-amused smile that skittered over his already frayed nerves. He might admire Aerith's even keel later when he was in better condition, but for now it just fuelled his annoyance. Tightening his jaw around an invisible cigarette, he punched the control pad to open the main hatch and strode inside before he said or did something stupid.

The interior was just as dingy as the exterior, but Cid could tell that under the rundown look, the structure was sound. He studied the console as the others stepped inside, crowding the small cockpit and spilling out the door as he familiarized himself with the basics needed for the escape. Cid didn't like the odds; this ship looked to be all about speed, with just a standard thermal gun under the bay window for basic defence. If they were noticed, it'd only take two or three hits.

He heard Aerith say something to the ranger before shutting the main hatch. Cid activated the warm-up sequence of the engines and watched the monitors and graphs spark to life as a low hum travelled through the ship. He dropped down in the pilot chair with a curse as he waited, his fingers clenching and unclenching around the armrest. Every moment they sat here the Shinra net drew tighter, and he was in no hurry to be caught.

There were two other seats in the cockpit. Cid looked over his shoulder. "Cloud, Aerith, I want you both here. I need people who either know engines or outer space around this planet. Everyone else, go sit your asses down and buckle up. Once this baby's ready, I ain't waiting around!"

As Cloud and Aerith took their assigned seats, Cid's eyes crossed Vincent's. The gunman wore an indecipherable expression, and Cid didn't know him well enough to be able to make anything out of it. With a slight nod, Vincent broke eye contact and left the cockpit.

It took ten agonizingly long minutes before the engines reached the appropriate temperature. By then Cid had figured out everything he needed to know to fly this small hunk of metal, and he didn't waste a second punching in the commands and coordinates. With a rattle like a tin can full of nails, the small ship lifted off the ground and, ever so slowly, gained altitude and speed. Cid cringed at the sound and slanted an unconvinced glare towards Aerith.

"You know, there were easier ways to kill us," he growled as he adjusted the angle slightly to try and smooth the friction.

Aerith was concentrating on the communication panels before her, twisting something on her headpiece searchingly, but she still spared him a knowing curl of a smile. "Give it a chance. It's tougher than it looks."

"Haven't got a chance to spare," he huffed, but the ship did start taking up speed properly once it reached a certain altitude, and although the shaking didn't diminish, at least it didn't worsen despite the thrusters' growing roar.

"Keep us in this direction. HQ is going to guide us through Shinra's blind spots. They shouldn't have enough wide-range radars in the area to cover the whole atmosphere yet."

Not the whole of it, but Shinra only needed to cover the section they had to fly through. It would all depend on how many ships they had, and how fast they could deploy more. Hopefully there wasn't a battle station that could get here before they got away. Cid ground his teeth. Shinra was mobilizing a lot of resources for his little crew. He didn't like it.

The shuttle's death rattle increased as they hurtled through the atmosphere, but that was to be expected. He held his breath as they reached the critical point, releasing it in a choppy rush as the ship broke through in one piece and settled in a calmer, if still shaky, pace. He'd flown out in space more times than he could count, but even in the best of ships it still tied a small knot in the bottom of his stomach. It would take the smallest thing, the tiniest mistake or sabotage, and they'd be dead in a matter of moments.

"Aim straight for area NEN-7654O," Aerith instructed, her voice slightly breathless. "76537 and its neighbours are all under surveillance."

Cid changed the ship's direction accordingly, putting the planet's green and blue curve to their right as they navigated the knife-edge of its gravitational pull while still profiting from its energy. Cid couldn't make out the colony from the stars yet, but his radar indicated that it was only slightly to their left.

"Where to after that?"

Aerith leaned forward and mapped a course over the checkerboard area map overlapping the planet's image. Her finger trailed along their actual route for a while, bypassing the colony completely, before curving back wide and coming in from the colony's far side, as if they came from outer space and not the planet. It was a sizeable detour.

"Damn it," Cid rasped. As much as he wanted to hightail it straight to the colony, instead he checked the shuttle's speed and made sure it wasn't so fast it'd attract attention. They might not be within a radar zone just yet, but he'd rather be on the safe side.

The UNPP kept their end of the bargain. They steadily informed Aerith of the changes in the flightpaths of Shinra's ships, and with a few more careful detours and doubling back, they managed to avoid being detected before reaching the colony's space zone. According to their info, no additional ships had flown in to search. Cid was happy to hear it; it gave him the limit of Shinra's interest in them.

The UNPP colony was a housing unit. Many of the park's workers and their families lived there on alternating schedules of seven days, spending two weeks on the planet, then one on the colony. All considered it was a puny colony, with only one small space port that was bound to be under Shinra's eye by now.

"You gonna trust your people so far?" he asked Aerith as he watched the dark grey disk of the colony draw nearer. It would only take one worker with no guts and a loose lip to sell them out as they landed. Cid wasn't about to believe that a colony worker's dedication to the UNPP stretched so far, not if a soldier was standing behind their shoulder.

"No," Aerith answered bluntly. She did not have a quirky grin for him this time. "There's an outwardly abandoned space port opposite the current one. We keep it secretly functional, just in case." Her eyes were confident when she looked across at him. "The structure's safe under the scrap metal, but there's no one in the control tower. You won't have any backup for landing."

Cid snorted gruffly. "Never needed it. S'all well and good, but they'll pick us up as soon as we're in range."

"Not if you activate the cloaking device."

She said it so  _casually._ Cid stared at her openly. "And why didn't you fucking mention that earlier?" he snapped irritably.

Ignoring the bark in his tone, she etched a mischievous grin. "Because it depletes the power supply too much. We might not have had enough left to reach the colony."

"Still nice to know in an emergency," he grumbled, but bent over the console to locate said cloaking device.

That was what had bothered him about the ship's design earlier. For it to work properly, the hull had to respect certain angles and parameters. He hadn't expected to see anything close to a cloaking device's calibre on the run-down looking ship.

"No use wasting time, then." Cid began the approach carefully, waiting until the very last moment before activating the cloaking device. There was no way to know from the inside if it had worked flawlessly, making them invisible to eye and radar alike, but the colony outside the window shifted minutely, as if it had stepped one notch out of focus, just enough to smudge its outer line without really being fuzzy. That was a typical sign of a functional cloaking device, and at least it told Cid that it was doing something.

The section of the colony Aerith guided them to looked like a solid metal wall. Cid angled the ship slightly to the side as he scanned for an opening that could indicate a space port, but he was having no luck so far.

"There." Aerith pointed at a structure that looked flat and normal, but under close scrutiny and a slightly upwards angle, revealed to be hiding a space hatch. "It'll respond to a specific signal transferred directly from HQ."

She said a few words in her headset, and a moment later the communication console before them came to life as the transmission began.

"Looks like you're used to doing this," Cid remarked. Aerith was guiding him with the ease and assurance of long practice. If she was nervous about anything going awry, she was damn good at hiding it.

As predicted, the space hatch began opening. Aerith settled back in her chair and shrugged. "I guess I am. We don't really have a choice, if we want to survive."

Cid grunted and engaged the ship in the proper trajectory. He kept an eye on his energy supplies; as she'd mentioned, they were dropping fast now that the cloaking device had been activated.

"Shinra made a move against the UNPP?"

She shook her head. "Not exactly, but we're like a black hole in their tightly woven control over charted space. They don't like that, and if they haven't tried seizing control of the park outright yet, we still have to deal with their people getting themselves hired and spying on the system. We can't always just send them away, so we do this instead." She stretched her arm, encompassing the ship, its cloaking device and the hidden space port.

"Some day one of those bastards is gonna get in far enough and find out about it." What she said made too much sense. Of course Shinra wouldn't let this solar system be for too long. It was becoming the perfect hiding place for smugglers and terrorists.

"Probably, but until then, we can only do the most we can."

Aerith had been true to her word; the interior looked more than just abandoned, it was nearly in ruins. Cid stared openly and cursed just as liberally when the second hatch opened, revealing the trashed structures.

"You sure about this?" he asked more than a little suspiciously.

She nodded and pointed to a landing zone off to their right. "The structure around that spot's the strongest."

Cid raised a disbelieving eyebrow even as he manoeuvred the ship through the touchy landing. "You let it some of it fall apart anyways?"

Aerith removed her headset as the ship hovered over the ground for a few seconds before Cid cut all power, engines and cloaking device included, dropping the shuttle to the floor. The sudden absence of its constant rattle left a ringing in his ears.

"We have to make it look convincing, don't we?"

Cid snorted and opened the communication lines. "Everyone get your asses out, we're down!" Opening the main hatch, Cid went through the landing operations quickly. The constant feeling of being chased was pulling tight, uncomfortable knots in his shoulders and neck. He'd be more than happy to wait and pound a few Shinra skulls, if it could actually do any good.

Everyone was waiting outside by the time he got out. Cid quickly did a head count, noting in passing the various signs of exhaustion, or lack thereof in the case of Cait, Cloud and Vincent. Though he didn't look tired, Cid could see that his chocobo-headed friend was tense as a bowstring.

"We can't stay on this colony for long," Cloud said, shifting his balance minutely as he surveyed the surroundings. Cid noticed he'd kept himself a small distance from the group, undoubtedly to give himself room in case he needed to wield his enormous sword. Damn but that kid was the most level-headed ball of nerves Cid had ever known. Unless you counted Vincent, who'd managed to place himself with his back to the ship's hull.

RedXIII raised his massive head towards Cloud and nodded. "We will find you transportation out of the system, but in the meantime we need to bring you to a better hiding place."

It turned out that 'a better hiding place' consisted of a storehouse near the actual, legal space port. The building was situated in a district a stone's throw away from the busy lanes and businesses and markets of the space port area. So long as they weren't seen coming in and out of the storehouse, they would be able to hide in plain sight until they found a ship ready to take them out of the system and throw Shinra off their tail.

 

 

Cid surveyed the interior of the storehouse, letting the smoke fill his lungs with cancer-choked bliss before hissing it out in a lazy cloud, feeling some of his headache flow away with it. Tifa had warned him to be careful when he'd declared he was making a little detour by the first shop they spotted that sold tobacco, but she hadn't tried to stop him. Cid smiled around his cigarette. She knew it would be better for all concerned if he wasn't grouchy on tobacco withdrawal.

The warehouse was used for storing construction materials. Crates upon crates were stacked up to the ceiling, along with sacks and tight stacks of wooden and metal beams. Though Cid could see the logic in the storing system, it still created a maze full of nooks and crannies they could hide in.

"Do the owners know their warehouse is part of your secret system?" Cloud asked, watching as Aerith locked the back doors on his heels. The building was thrown into near pitch-black darkness as soon as they sealed shut. Only RedXIII's tail provided any light.

"No. But we know their workers' usual schedules and their stock rotation. They have three other warehouses, and they should empty those before they come here," she answered. Her words were followed by the click of a button as she opened a flashlight. She handed two others to him and Tifa. "Don't worry," she added, her green eyes intent on Cloud. "We'll keep you, all of you, safe."

Now, Cid wasn't all that good at reading people in the best of times, but even he couldn't miss the depth that lurked under those words. Cid couldn't put a name on how Aerith was looking at Cloud, but he was beginning to wonder if she wasn't falling for his asocial little ass.

"And we're really grateful for that, but we should go find a better place than right by the doors to rest," Tifa intervened, and by her tone she'd noticed too. It wasn't jealousy, but a razor-sharp edge of worry and something like alarm made her words sound a whole lot less thankful than they were probably meant to be.

"Enough yappin', then," Cid declared, deciding that he'd had enough of the weird feminine eye-balling and quadruple-meanings he couldn't make head nor tails of. It looked like the small exchange had sailed way over Cloud's head, but that wasn't surprising. As stupidly good as he was when it came to fighting and anything with wheels and a motor, he could be denser than a fucking mountain when it came to social interactions.

They found a corner in the stacks where they could sit or lie down without risking being caught by surprise from behind or above, then closed the flashlights, once again relying on RedXIII's tail to provide a bit of illumination. Aerith excused herself, explaining that she was going to try and find a ship. Ignoring the itch growing between his shoulder blades, Cid sat down with a weary sigh and leaned back against a bag of something that was only half solid.

"You should try to sleep."

Cid opened eyes he hadn't realized he'd closed and looked over at Vincent. Although he was used to seeing Cloud's glowing eyes, he was not so comfortable with the way Vincent's subtler but just as alien red highlights seemed to swallow the darkness around them as he peered at the surroundings. Shrugging half-heartedly, he lit himself another cigarette to give himself something to do.

"Can't sleep when I don't know when Shinra might find our asses," he answered, only half-true. His nerves were raw with wariness and the feeling of expectation, but it was all dimmed by a film of exhaustion. The dull, constant throbbing from his head injury hadn't abated since the crash, sapping a lot of his bluster, and he'd stopped counting the hours since he'd last slept. He figured it had to be only twenty-four hours, but it had been a busy day and Cid never pretended to be a miracle man. Still, he'd rather not sleep and be awake and ready when –if—Shinra found them.

"We are enough, we can set a watch until Aerith comes back," Vincent insisted, not looking even a little tired, the silent bastard.

Even less patient than usual, Cid just scowled at him. "I ain't sleeping, I said."

Vincent just stared at him for a moment before nodding the tiniest bit. "Would you prefer I heal your injury?" he offered instead, his tone as serious and honest as you please. Cid wasn't buying it.

"So it's a cure materia. Was wonderin' about it," Cid grouched. He removed his retracted spear from its sheath and propped it on his thigh, keeping a loose fist around it. "And no, I don't. I ain't looking forward to after the boost. Makes me fucking hungrier than the Zolom on a diet," he added, shooting Vincent a baleful glance. Though not as much as the caster himself, it would still make him sleepy and Cid couldn't afford that.

Cid decided to blame the dark, fitful shadows for the ghost of a smile he thought he saw curve Vincent's lips. "Where'd you get it? I don't know how long you've been in space, but materia were pretty damn hard to get during the war. Only just started seeing shops of 'em again."

The hint of amusement that Cid figured he was imagining anyways winked out of Vincent's eyes just as suddenly. Well fucking damn. Talking to that guy was like walking on fucking eggshells, except Cid was no bloody ballerina. He exhaled a cloud of smoke in an exasperated rush.

"Never mind," he snapped, returning his attention to the thick darkness in front of him. Tifa and RedXIII were talking close by, with Cloud looming just around a stack corner, the stealth of his dark leather completely ruined by the bright shock of his hair.

"I stole it."

Cid glanced back at Vincent. His expression was carefully blank, but at least he was talking. Cid was ready to take whatever he could get.

"If Shinra's on my tail for one lousy cure materia, I'm leaving you on this shithole colony," he growled, injecting enough humor in his grouch to show Vincent that he wasn't serious. Quite.

The comment did manage to loosen up Vincent's wall-face, at least. "They're not."

"Good to hear," Cid nodded. He let himself drift off for a minute before adding, half to himself, "The way things are going lately, a couple materia could be a smart investment."

Vincent nodded and stretched one leg before him. "You said they were hard to come by during the war. How available are they now?"

Cid raised one shoulder and began rolling his spear in his palm. "Expensive, but every city or colony worth mentioning's got a shop now. Basic crap, of course, cure and the elements, but I saw a place close to Midgar that advertised a couple higher grades." Cid snorted. "Probably bullshit."

"Does anybody else in your ship have materia?" Vincent asked, and the way his eye turned to Cloud left no doubt about who he was implying by 'anybody'.

Cid considered briefly the possibility of lying, but figured that it was a moot point by now. If Vincent was the traitor, there wasn't much more damage he could do by knowing Cloud had materia. Wasn't especially hard to find out anyways.

"Thunder and ice. Seal. Anything else he didn't share," he answered. The more they talked about it, the more he wondered why he'd never equipped himself before. True, the only thing he'd ever had to worry about before were monsters, but he could name a few run-ins that would've benefited from magic. Cid was pretty sure he was fit enough to handle the basic stuff, and they said the ability grew with time and practice. With the bastards on his tail, the little voodoo balls were certainly becoming more and more attractive.

"He is well equipped," Vincent nodded. _'For a delivery man'_  hung thick in the air. Cid rolled his eyes.

"Yeah well, just be thankful he is if Shinra catches up to us."

Aerith was gone for a long time, long enough that Cid was beginning to worry, when the back door of the depot clanked open and shut in a rush. He tensed, his grip tightening around his weapon as he listened to the sounds of running footsteps. They were too light for soldier gear, and single besides. It didn't come as a surprise when Aerith's voice preceded her appearance in the small hollow of light cast by RedXIII's tail.

"They know we're here," she said immediately. She was breathing heavily and sweat trickled down her temples. She must have run fast and long to get to them before the soldiers. "I don't know how, but they'll be here in a matter of minutes. We have to go."

_Godamnit._ He'd had enough of this stupid fucking bullshit. He jumped up and lengthened his spear in the same breath, slamming the butt against the concrete floor. "Let them come! It's about time we faced the bastards!"

Without compromising his view of the rows beyond their corner, Cloud angled his head so he could fix a mako-blue gaze on the little party, too steady. The pilot could read the turmoil and tension in Cloud's body language from the way he was not showing it.

"Did you find a ship?" he asked Aerith.

Grimacing, she shook her head. "I didn't get the chance. They've also managed to ground all flights until they decide otherwise."

Cloud nodded grimly. "Cid has a point. The best way to lose them now is to defeat them."

"We ignore how many there are. I imagine we are sorely outnumbered," RedXIII put in, his deep rumble laced with anticipation and a suppressed hunger Cid suspected wouldn't mind trying the odds.

"With the element of surprise, it might not matter," Cloud countered, and just like that, the mood shifted, taking the heavy, heady quality of anticipation when you know a bad storm's coming, but you can't wait to see who comes out on top regardless. Cid almost felt like grinning.

"This deathtrap ain't no place to fight. Let's get outta here first."

They went out through the backdoor. Aerith led the way, since she probably looked the less suspicious along with Tifa, and they followed quickly when she signaled that the area was still clear. Although it wasn't large enough to allow for delivery trucks, the back street was still big enough for fair-sized vehicles coming to get stuff from the back. Scanning both sides quickly, they opted instead for a connecting alley that would provide better cover while they chewed out a hasty plan.

"They were setting up guards up and down all the streets connecting to the warehouse," Aerith explained. "I just managed to slip through. I don't think they'll be happy to just wait until we move, though."

Cloud, the one with the better knowledge on how Shinra's military operated –except maybe for Vincent, but Cid wasn't going to start speculating down that road, not now—nodded his confirmation.

"Once they've set their net, they'll start drawing tighter. We pick our ground and wait for them."

With so many people with at least a minimum of battle experience, they managed to set the ambush before the first of the soldiers rounded the corner. Vincent had found his way up to the rooftop to provide cover fire, while the rest had dispersed in key points along the alley. The narrow space would prevent Shinra from surrounding them, and in greater numbers it'd be easier picking them off in single combat.

Theoretically.

It started well enough. There was the startled scream of pain and surprise induced by two hundred and some pounds of compact, animal muscles dropping on one's head. As predicted, the remaining two soldiers backed into the alley for cover without the caution they would've taken if they didn't have to contend with RedXIII's full-fanged snarl, raising their rifles. Cloud took them out before they could pull the trigger.

Alerted by the noise, the other soldiers surrounding the warehouse made for the alley in tighter, controlled formations. From his end of the alley, Cid wasn't overly worried. Although the odds weren't in their favor –three to one, it looked like—they weren't enough that Cid doubted they'd be able to fight their way out of this mess. He activated the electric current in his spear, reveling in the familiar, near-imperceptible hum against his glove-covered palms, and waited for the soldiers to be close enough to engage.

That's when he heard the staccato whirring of chopper blades. He wanted to look up and see how many there were, and where, but the first Shinra crony came within striking distance and Cid couldn't afford the distraction. At first he'd meant to lure the enemies to him, fight with his back covered instead of in a melee, but the sound of those helicopters forced his hand. He jumped forward instead, hopping in the thickening group of enemies, hoping that whatever weapons were on those choppers, they wouldn't dare aim for him as long as they risked killing their own at the same time.

The long range of his spear worked well to keep the growing number of soldiers at a manageable distance, with the electric current disabling those he couldn't dispatch with a first strike, and at some point during the battle Cid became aware of the silenced, bone-deep explosions of Vincent's enormous gun. Men dropped around him sometimes, and Cid only had enough attention to spare to snarl and plunge in the openings left him. The battle-confusion was thick and Cid couldn't waste a second to see how the others were faring, but he was beginning to see the end of his own little share of Shinra flunkies.

Cid noticed that he couldn't hear Vincent's distinctive report amongst the soldiers', but still the chopper's hammering, at the same time as a blast of magic slammed against his side and sent him staggering to one knee. It was like a plate of smudged glass had been dropped before his eyes; everything became murky and indistinct, a mess of gradually blurring shapes that made only just enough sense that Cid was able to deflect the butt of a riffle before it could club him in the head. He shook his head, trying to dispel the magic, but it was creeping beyond his vision like a space parasite gnawing its way along energy lines, shutting out sounds and sensations alike, cocooning his body in a numbing blanket. The world became dark and quiet, and Cid did not feel it when he hit the ground.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The stillness of the moment was broken by the sharp report of a gunshot. Cloud staggered back with a groan, hands going to his belly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See Chapter 1

Vincent had not been drugged quite as much as he had expected, but it was still enough to erect a thin, hazy barrier against Galian's snarling, ferocious attempts at seizing control. His emotions were in turmoil, a churning mix of anger, hatred, fear and anticipation that created a weakness his inner demon knew how to use to free itself, and Vincent would not have been able to shore up enough resistance to control it if not for the chemicals. Maybe Galian would have the strength needed to get him out, but proper timing was crucial.

They had put him in a windowless, grey-walled cell that was divided in the center by electrified bars with undoubtedly enough voltage to cause lasting damage to a normal human metabolism. On the other side lay RedXIII, his tail adding a little to the single light bulb flickering sickly yellow overhead. Vincent didn't like not knowing the whereabouts of the others. It would make them hard to find if -when-they broke out of here.

"Red?" Vincent whispered, his voice the barest of thread, relying on his companion's heightened hearing to be perceived. The cells were under video surveillance at all times, but it was impossible to tell if they were equipped with microphones as well. It was a risk Vincent couldn't take.

Red flicked one ear in his direction as if chasing a fly and opened his good eye, turning it to him. He didn't move a single other muscle.

"Have you been sedated?"

A minute movement of the head to the sides. Vincent was relieved, but it would serve little purpose if they couldn't get out.

"I have. Until it wears off, I can't break us out," he continued. RedXIII fixed him silently, his eye asking the question he dared not voice aloud. "Be ready. When the opportunity comes, we can't hesitate."

RedXIII yawned expensively and stretched, shooting his claws and revealing a set of intimidating fangs, looking to all purposes like a cat lounging in the sun. He settled back contentedly, his eye still on his companion.

Accepting it as the answer that it was, Vincent leaned against the wall facing the door and concentrated on keeping Galian patient any way he could. He wasn't sure if the demon would be able to withstand the electric current, but it could at least bust the doors. He'd get only one try. If it failed, Hojo would make sure there would be no repeat performance.

 

 

The suit was glaring white. Cid had seen a few of the like in his years off-planet. They were too bright in the blackness of space and almost certainly attracted the worst sort of attention possible, the kind that came with hunger-driven fangs and one hell of a mean character.

Cid shot the soldier, jail guard, whatever-the-hell-he-was an unconvinced glare.

"I'm not wearing that stupid thing out there," he pronounced, jerking his head at the suit. If Shinra wanted to kill him, they could just do it in a bloody normal way.

The man frowned and glared like he hadn't been laid in years. Probably didn't rank very high on the hierarchy either.

"The ship's too big. The monsters don't come near it," he answered with an impatient sneer.

Cid crossed his arms and snorted. "And I'd do what in it? Stand pretty?" What the hell were they planning? Cid had brushed with the wrong side of prison bars before, but never seriously and never with Shinra. Still, he doubted this was typical protocol.

"Repairs. There're some spots on the hull that need mending."

For a moment Cid wasn't quite sure what the fuck he was supposed to say to that. It hadn't been what he'd expected. The implications quickly registered, however, and he barked a humorless laugh.

"You out of your fucking mind? I'm never going to fix a damn thing for Shinra!" he roared, outraged that they could even begin to think they could bully him into fixing one damn screw in this place.

The guard glowered at the tone, but there was the ghost of a smirk at the corners of his lips.

"Don't forget all your friends. Now put the damn suit on."

Well fuck, ok, maybe they could bully him into doing it. Cid had no damn clue what had happened to any of the others save for Tifa, but he knew Shinra probably wouldn't bat an eyelash if it came to torturing them. He wasn't going to put their resolve to the test, not when it put his friends' lives on the line.

Cursing loudly and generously, Cid yanked the suit off the bench before his fists found the idiot's face.

It turned out that they really were putting him to work tightening screws. Cid found himself among a small, legit black-clad workforce repairing loose or broken panels along the side of the hull facing the star currently being harvested. There was only one supervisor in the area, but it wasn't like Cid could flee. The gravity points in his boots were too strong to hop and he couldn't disable them. Besides, where would he go? He was fucking white. He'd be spotted immediately.

Cid gave the screw a last half-hearted twist, well aware that it still couldn't be considered tight and secured. What the hell, it'd come off eventually, but they weren't keeping exact records of what he was working on. They probably figured that the threat against his friends had cowed him enough.

It was a petty gesture, but it was the only one he could do. Cid fixed a few more loose things in the subpanel area, happily doing a half-assed job of it, then replaced a new exterior panel and began welding it into place. His line was wobbly and patchy, but it'd hold. For a while.

 

 

Tifa stood up the moment she heard the whisper of hydraulics hissing into action. She didn't know how much time had passed since the door had last opened for something else than a meal, but be it minutes or hours, it had her feeling restless enough that punching her way out the walls was beginning to sound like an acceptable plan.

Her fists clenched reflexively, she waited as the door cut out a bright rectangle against the evenly dark grey walls of her cell, revealing three men. The foremost guard stepped aside so that Cid could be pushed inside. The pilot cursed at them as he took two stumbling steps inside, but the door had been closed shut once again.

Tifa breathed a sigh of relief and forced the tension out of her shoulders. Every time Cid was taken out, she was left to wonder if he'd ever be brought back, and in which state. So far, they'd never kept him longer than three meals. She stepped aside so that he could let himself fall sitting on the hard bench that also served as a bed, his head thumping against the wall.

"Are you alright?" she asked. As uncharitable as it might seem, however, it was not the question foremost in her mind. She had had no news of anybody but Cid, whom shared her cell, since being captured. Cloud, Vincent, Aerith, RedXIII, even Cait Sith.

"The fuckers won't let me smoke," he growled, and she could see his jaw working as he ground his teeth.

Though her muscles twitched with the desire to move and expend energy, Tifa made herself sit down in front of Cid, studying the older man carefully. He didn't seem to be favoring any limb and his breathing was deep and slow from exhaustion. Tobacco withdrawal really was the only problem.

"Did you see anyone?" she asked next, unable to wait longer. She'd asked every time Cid came back, and the answer had always been the same.

"'Course not. As far as we know, Cloud's been stuck in a lab again, and Vincent's probably right there with him! Fuck," Cid swore, thumping his knuckles against the bench. It was a measure of his exhaustion that his temper couldn't manage more. "They're not going to let us visit them."

She wasn't surprised with the answer, but she couldn't help a twinge of disappointment. The chances that Cid would see anybody while he was put to work repairing something or another were about nonexistent and yet she kept hoping against all odds. It was about the only thing keeping her sane. Cid might bitch about having to work, but at least he had something to keep him busy.

"I did hear something fucking interesting, though," he continued after a while. Tifa looked up sharply. Cid was scowling something fierce, almost as if he expected to be able to drill a hole through the ceiling with his stare alone. "The mother-bloody-ship's coming here."

"Why?" Tifa didn't know what else to ask. She was reeling from the news, a thousand possibilities running through her mind and none of them pretty. She was fairly sure the coming of the central and most important vessel of Shinra's fleet here while they were imprisoned was only coincidence, but it still could only mean trouble.

"Fuck if I know," Cid grouched with a tense shrug. "If we're lucky they'll be so busy kissing ass they won't pay enough attention to us."

"We have to stay on our guard, in case an opportunity comes up," she agreed, feeling it was somewhat useless to mention, but she didn't have much else to say. Cid was an awful conversationalist.

"Did I miss the food again?" he asked suddenly. He swore in what she was pretty sure was more than one language when she nodded. "Again, damnit! You ass-sniffing bastards, you expect me to work on an empty stomach!?" he yelled at the door, but couldn't summon the energy to rise from the bench.

Tifa smiled thinly and bent low to retrieve something she'd hidden under her own bench. Both times now Cid had been taken away after the parody of a breakfast, but from what she'd gathered, they hadn't always remembered to give him lunch, and it was the second time in a row they brought him back after diner, too.

"Here. It's the only thing I could save without the guards noticing." She handed him the white bread roll that had accompanied the bland, tasteless diner they'd given her. Cid only stared for a second before grabbing it and biting hungrily. His stomach growled loudly, thanking her more clearly than the mumbled word Cid tried to enunciate around his mouthful.

 

 

When the guards opened the door, revealing grim-set mouths under black visors and semi-automatic muzzles, Cloud was about ready to leap out of his own skin. He'd been kept imprisoned here for longer than he'd been able to keep track off, with a few meals his stomach indicated weren't evenly distributed and nobody to communicate with. It was the first time since he'd been put in this cell that the door had even opened.

Despite the raw energy burning down his spine all to way to his toes, Cloud forced himself to stand up slowly, his movements easy and measured. He didn't speak, waiting with his hands deceptively calm at his side for them to say what the hell they wanted now. They'd taken away his weapons and materia, but he could hold his own barehanded. He'd have to.

The stillness of the moment was broken by the sharp report of a gunshot. Cloud staggered back with a groan, hands going to his belly. Had they decided to kill him, then? However, when he looked down expecting to see blood, there was only a small green-fletched dart. He yanked it out with a snarl, already feeling the concoction seeping through his muscles and numbing the edges of his senses. The world dropped a few degrees out of focus, his ears rang and his mouth filled with sawdust, but otherwise he did not fall unconscious. In fact, he realized slowly, laboriously, he did not have to fight to stay awake at all. It was like being drunk, somewhat, except he was only just connected enough with his body to move it coherently.

A guard came forward and yanked his arms back to cuff him. Cloud didn't fight, knowing even through the haze in his mind that he was beaten for now. Hopefully they'd underestimated his metabolism and he'd process the drugs faster than expected.

"Out," one of the guards ordered. Cloud couldn't tell who'd spoken. When he didn't move, two more stepped forward to grab his arms and manhandle him outside, pushing and tugging alternately. Cloud couldn't keep from staggering on more than one occasion.

The halls succeeded one another in a string of confused colors and sounds that Cloud could only just make sense of. He was aware of the constant push of the guards at his elbows, of a creeping, insidious sense of dread that would not be shut out despite the drugs, or more accurately because of them, encroaching on what little control he'd managed to keep over himself. With every step he could feel it slipping from his fingers; his heart was steadily climbing up his throat and he felt hot, too hot.

He needed to break free, drugs or no drugs.

When they crossed an inter-ship connector, Cloud's festering dread rose a notch closer to panic and he froze mid-hallway, watching the connecting hatch as if it might suddenly open and suck him in. The guards had to push and jab strong enough to bruise to get him moving again, but the only reason he eventually did so was because of the drugs.

The interior of this new ship seemed to be in better condition than the harvesting ship they had just left behind. Few signs of age and damage were apparent on the good-quality metals lining walls and ceiling. The adrenaline flooding his veins returned an edge to Cloud's senses he would have rather not recovered. The familiarity of the standard hallway design tugged at memories he very much needed locked up if he wanted to keep a clear head and escape.

The trek through the ship was long and provided Cloud with the time needed to regain a measure of control over himself. The halls were mostly unoccupied and he was unable to properly identify the few individuals they crossed through the drug's haze. Sometimes they called out to his guards, but most skirted them in silence.

Finally, the guards stopped before a simple door just like all the others they had passed. One of them knocked but did not wait for an answer before palming the sensor. Cloud was impatiently encouraged to step inside.

He knew to whom belonged this office, but also to what other sections it granted private access to. Drug or no drug, a complex mix of anger, hatred, fear and a bone-deep instinct to flee surged to the surface, freezing his feet in place. It didn't matter now; the guards had already left, sealing the door behind them. Cloud was caught.

Hojo did not turn around immediately, his hunched form intent on some document or another propped against the corner of a file dresser. The fact that the guards had not had to ask for admittance meant that he had been waiting for him.

"I have to admit, I did not think you were still alive," Hojo finally said, turning a page. He cast a one-eyed look over his shoulder, all business and cold assessment. "Not you, and not in such good condition."

Cloud did not speak; he knew better. He should have seen this coming. Being captured by Shinra meant that his name was back in their system; it would only have been a matter of time before Hojo saw it.

"Yet here you are." Hojo closed the file, stored it back in the dresser, and turned to Cloud. Details were blurred but, strangely, the scientist's eyes were not in the least. He hadn't changed.

He walked around his desk slowly, carefully, appraising Cloud's state. After a moment's careful consideration he reached forward and grabbed his arm, checking his pulse before he leaned up to examine his eyes. No doubt satisfied about the intensity of the effects of the drugs, he took one step back and tilted his head to the side ever so slightly.

"Unfortunately, I haven't worked out quite yet what to do with you first. All the other old specimens that have conveniently fallen into my lap have demanded a lot of my attention. So many preparations... It's very interesting how you somehow all gathered together."

He did not know that any of his companions had also been test subjects for Hojo, even if he had his suspicions in certain cases, but this brutal insinuation still caused him to jerk back ever so slightly, his chin raising before he could control it.

Hojo did not fail to notice it. A ghost of a smile stretched his lips. "You might see them in passing, some day. Maybe I will even have you interact; the exhibited behavior would be a curious study. But not today."

Hojo stepped back and opened an intercom feed. "Jorry, get in here with the sedatives." The scientist crossed his hands behind his back as he waited, his cold eyes fixed on Cloud. They showed little emotion save for curiosity and a layer of excited anticipation Cloud did not care about. He wanted to move, to attack Hojo and flee, but he was rooted to the spot. It wasn't all due to the drugs.

A moment later, another doctor came through the door almost hidden in the back corner of the room, pushing a narrow gurney before him. Two more orderlies followed.

"I think one surprise is enough from you, so I'm not taking any unnecessary chances," Hojo mused, following his underling's movements as he approached Cloud with a syringe loaded with a clear liquid. "Note the time of the injection precisely, Jorry, I want his tolerance level well documented."

He wasn't even under yet and Hojo had already dismissed him. When that Jorry doctor seized his arm, Cloud had a moment of panic and reacted, breaking his hold and lurching back in a blind desire to escape, no matter his state of awareness. The orderlies that had come along were quick to grab him. Cloud managed to break free once more, but not before the doctor had stabbed the syringe in the back of his shoulder. The world quickly faded away.

_"You alright?"_

_"-'m fine."_

_"Thought so. Alright, let's try that again."_

_"…You know, I don't think a body is supposed to be able to pull that off."_

_"Sure it can! I'm a shining example of it."_

_"Maybe, but you aren't normal."_

_"Thanks. And it just made it easier for me, I know you can still do it."_

_"Fine, but it'll take me years."_

_"I have faith in you! Besides, I can't afford years."_

_"What?"_

_"I gotta have someone at my back. Someone I can trust."_

_"But-"_

_"I'm pushy, I'm sorry, but I know you can do it. I need you now more than ever, Cloud."_

_"I-"_

Waking up from the drugged sleep was like battling against thick syrup to reach the surface. Cloud made his way up slowly, letting himself drift. He wasn't sure why, but he felt safer here. He knew he couldn't remain in this sleepy half-state, but reluctance currently outweighed urgency.

The dream had been strange. It had begun normally, reenacting an old scene from a life he hadn't thought of in a long time, yet it had…slipped, at the end. That conversation wasn't supposed to finish like that. It could be only fancy, but the more aware Cloud became, the more worried he grew.

He eventually opened his eyes, dreading what he would see but wanting to face it regardless. There was a pane of glass before him, circling him in a tight enough semi-circle that he would not be able to lie down and stretch to his full length. The familiar shapes of a research laboratory greeted him on the other side.

He was back in a tank.

A rush of panic surged like acid in his throat and he had to fight his instincts not to jump at the glass and try to break it down with his bare hands. It would be specially made to resist his heightened strength, and the less he gave them, the better. His muscles tense to the point of pain, Cloud forced himself to sit up slowly, leaning against the back of the tank. It was warm but provided no more comfort than if it had been cold.

Someone was moving in the back of the room, probably a man from his posture and gait, which was also too straight-backed to be Hojo. He eventually made his way to the tank, a pen already scribbling furiously on a notepad. No doubt Cloud's vitals were being monitored around the clock; the scientist had undoubtedly noticed his moment of panic. Making himself breathe deeply and slowly was a chore that made him feel like he was drowning a little, but he endured it until his heart rate followed suit.

The scientist never looked up from his writing. He seemed nervous. Cloud rose to his feet; the movement drew the young man's attention. He looked up and met Cloud's stare, but his eyes were a little too wide, his jaw too tight around its neutral expression to be credible. He broke contact quickly and escaped back to the deeper confines of the room.

The short exchange had still given Cloud useful information. His previous years of similar confinement were a blurry, half-clear, half-unknown patchwork of memories, but he knew that Hojo had let only a few of his underlings participate in his human experiments, and only sporadically. This one was too skittish to fit Hojo's preferred candidates.

That nervousness also gave Cloud a measure of superiority over him. He still didn't know how he would be able to use it to his advantage, but it was worth cultivating. The slightest slip would be all he needed to escape. Cloud settled back and waited for the right moment.

It was impossible to calculate time precisely, as the assistant came to and fro irregularly, but Cloud was sure that a full day had not yet passed before Hojo finally made an appearance. It was not panic but hatred that flared at the hunched man's sight, balling Cloud's hands in tight, trembling fists. Yet Hojo didn't come near the tank. He fussed over a small control panel, completely ignoring his experiment.

Something began whirring over Cloud's head, a low, ominous sound. Stale air that pricked the back of his throat drifted from the top of the tank, creating a slight current that ruffled his hair. Cloud knew what this heralded. Just a few seconds later cold, bright green mako steam began filling the tank.

He should have expected something like this. Hojo was obsessed with mako and its effects on all types of living beings, especially humans. As soon as it touched his skin, the mako steam activated the one mingling with his blood. The sensation was like dunking his limbs in hot water when they'd been near freezing. It was painful yet promised a world of new and improved sensations. Cloud staggered back against the back of the tank, breathing as shallowly as he could. It was no use; his lungs were filling up with the steam, with hot ash that burned and clogged his airways.

The steam's density was kept low, but it was still enough to gradually deconstruct his mind like a child carefully picking apart a toy. Cloud resisted, but he felt himself slipping. As he fought the inexorable effects, he noticed that Hojo had come nearer and was now studying his reaction intently. Baring his teeth in a snarl, Cloud lunged at the outer pane of glass, his fists crashing against the smooth surface. It did not yield, and Hojo only crooked a slight smile. Enraged, terrorized and increasingly confused, Cloud pounded against the glass with all his might until all rational thoughts dissolved, bringing reality down with them.

At first it was only a series of hushed whispers, like the barest of breeze rustling tall grass. He let it wrap around him, cocooning and abating the rage he did not understand the origin of anymore. At first it was soothing, but as the whispers grew into mumbling voices ushering barely recognizable words, they began to feel invasive. The words drowned out the remaining shreds of his own thoughts, pushing them aside and taking their place with an odd insistence that felt more and more like an inquisition. It confused and repulsed him, yet he was not sure if he should try and resist. What would he be protecting?

The voices became shouts as they pushed deeper, grabbing at him and tugging to make him one of them. That he did resist, although he didn't know how. Somewhere, a little voice that might just be his own knew that he would disappear if he let them take him.

Time was impossible to evaluate, but he felt like it had been only a short time before something like a high-pitched, agonizing shriek joined the mess of shouts. Pain instantly flared through him, reaching places he did not even know existed. All the other voices were muted now, faded into the background of this new invader. His own little voice was almost completely shredded, its pieces cast off into the mass to be swallowed and destroyed.

It sank fire-tipped claws in his mind, ripping it apart as it searched, explored, invaded. He could do nothing to resist it, to stop its attack. When it had found what it wanted it stopped but did not retreat, making itself comfortable. It was like cradling burning coal.

_"There you are."_

Its voice was an explosion right in his skull. He screamed voicelessly, tried to escape it, but it was in too deep. It did not let him go.

_"You are mine now. He will not find you. He will not save you."_


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See Chapter 1

It was the smell that he noticed first. It stood out immediately amongst the barren, dusty cell's dry odors; a musty, predatory scent that cut through everything like an arrow and that prickled Red's instincts to life. Suddenly he was not the only predator in the cell, but would he become a competitor, or a fellow hunter? Slowly, languidly, Red stretched and sat up, making it seem entirely natural that he now faced Vincent. The man had not moved an inch from his spot, but Red could smell the difference. He wanted to ask what was happening yet couldn't afford to speak aloud, leaving him in a state of anxious anticipation. Vincent had mentioned that he might be able to free them once his drugs wore off. Was this it?

A faint tremor shook the ship as Red waited for something to happen, the tip of his tail swishing in lazy, unconcerned arcs. At first he paid it no attention; a star-harvesting colony was bound to be the stage of a few such disturbances. When it was shortly followed by another, stronger one, then a third that set alarms blaring some distance away, Red did pay attention. He rose, ears straining to hear more clearly through the thick doors of his cell. Whatever was happening, he would not like being stuck here if it took a turn for the worse.

The beastly scent emanating from Vincent spiked suddenly, reclaiming Red's attention. The man bolted to his feet and gave his companion a look that had lost most of its icy control.

"Now," he said, his voice gutturally low and nearly unintelligible.

Then he transformed.

Red hadn't known what to expect, but this certainly hadn't been on the list. Vincent's human body folded on itself and grew, becoming larger and much more muscular. A dark, purple hide, a thick mane and whorled horns that topped a fierce, red glare and a mouthful of rightfully intimidating fangs. The beast snarled at him, its voice incredibly deep, almost too low to hear, then charged at the door of its cell with a roar that rattled Red's bones.

To its credit, the door didn't immediately give way, but whatever Vincent had become clearly possessed incredible physical strength. Its fangs bared, it insisted, its claws sunk straight inside the metal, and soon the door burst outward.

Red couldn't see well in the hall from his own cell, but he heard the lone guard's shriek clearly. It was cut off short, leaving Red to wonder if Vincent was still fully conscious in that beast form, or if he would abandon him here, forgotten.

That question was answered quickly. Red heard a snarl and the short, sudden burst of a small electrical explosion before his door slid open halfway. It was nearly folded in half across the middle as the beast pushed it the rest of the way.

Vincent (after this show of help, Red couldn't consider the beast as anything else) stared at Red impassively for a second, lips twitching over his fangs as if he was considering whether he faced a friend or a foe. When he reached a conclusion, he turned around sharply and moved to the next cell. Coming out, Red saw that Vincent was sniffing the doors one by one, no doubt trying to detect any of their companion's presence. Red did the same, just to be on the safe side, but the three other double cells in this block didn't hold any recognizable person's scent. Seemingly unwilling to expend his energy on complete strangers, Vincent turned around as soon as he'd inspected the last set of doors and ran back down the hall.

Red hastened to follow, knowing they couldn't afford to be separated now. The overhead lights in the hall were flashing red and the alarms now resounded all around them. Red didn't even look down as he jumped over the fallen body of the guard. Vincent was moving quickly and didn't seem inclined to slow down and wait for anybody.

They surprised a small contingent of guards wearing the uniform of the colony in a connecting hallway. Vincent barreled into them without slowing down, mowing through anything standing in his path with claws and fangs and sheer weight alone. Red took care of those that managed to step aside quickly enough, ripping into throats and bellies before they could raise their rifles and shoot. The guards had been few and it was over very quickly. They moved on.

Red understood quickly that they would not stop and discuss something like a plan any time soon. Still, they could not just run forward blindly. They had to move logically to escape this ship. First, however, they had to find their companions.

"Do you know where you're going?" Red asked, just in case. Vincent ignored him, which wasn't all that surprising. "We have to find the others first."

It was like talking to a wall. A running, lethal wall, but Vincent didn't show any sign of having even heard Red. Cursing inwardly, Red put his nose to the ground as best he could while running, hoping to catch the scent of any one of their friends.

They met more and more guards as they ran, but few managed to do more than just graze them. Vincent was fast and ruthless but oddly aware of Red's presence. What he had first considered were near misses he soon realized were, in reality, reckless but calculated strikes. Vincent's appearance helped. The guards' surprise almost invariably cost them the little chance they had at taking down this rampaging mass of strength and teeth and claws.

It was after such a scuffle that Red fell on a familiar scent. He'd been following Vincent's progress, helpless to influence the turns they took, but now he began to wonder if Vincent hadn't had a clear destination all along. The coincidence would be great otherwise.

"Cid was here a short time ago," he said as soon as Vincent was done with his last kill. The beast turned and stared straight at him, for the first time showing that he was listening to what was being told. Red sniffed the floor more carefully. The air was thick with blood and it made it hard to concentrate. "It goes this way."

Vincent bared red-tinted fangs and, surprisingly, waited for Red to take the lead. He did so gladly, following the trail of tobacco and engine oil that, to Red, identified the space mechanic even more clearly than did his appearance.

 

 

Silence.

After the pain of the booming voice, its absence was almost tangible. It was peaceful, this silence. Calm, unsurprising, impartial. It was strange how something that did not exist could feel so real.

_"Oh, no. What are you doing here?"_

Another voice. It was as soft as a breeze rustling the high leaves of a tall tree and barely more recognizable than a dying echo. It didn't break the silence. Rather, it neatly folded it aside, keeping it close and comforting.

_"Do you remember who you are?"_

Who? At first the words meant nothing. Then, slowly, confusion bloomed, becoming a core that attracted the dispersed motes of his identity, the ones that had been scattered and nearly destroyed by the voice until he'd forgotten he was a single entity. If he felt relief, then confusion, he must exist, somehow.

_"I…am,"_ he said into the silence. The emptiness around him came into being as well. It was white.

_"Yes,"_ the voice answered, patient but coaxing. _"What's your name?"_

A name. He tried to think carefully about what it was, what it could be or even what he might wish to call himself. The more he pondered, the more the notion eluded him. How could he choose a single word to describe all that he was when he did not know that himself?

_"No,"_ he finally answered. His voice was as flat and shapeless as he felt. It revealed nothing that might help him. _"Do you know?"_

_"Yes, but I can't tell you. It won't mean anything if I do,"_ the voice replied. It was slightly stronger, or maybe he could just hear it better.

_"Ah. Can I see you?"_

There was a pause, but he knew that the voice's owner wasn't gone. He could feel that something else shared the white space with him.

_"I'll try, but you're very fragile and I can't step through completely yet."_

A moment passed before anything happened. Then, just like that, a small winter fox sat before him. It was nearly indistinguishable from the white all around them save for the black tips of its tail and paws and its eyes. They were a warm, intelligent red that fixed him with a soft, almost smiling gleam.

_"You aren't human,"_ he stated. The fox's presence was an element against which to compare what he was and it helped him remember that he was, in fact, human. The realization, added to the animal's position, gave him back the sense of occupying a body, of physically inhabiting a space.

The fox's mouth didn't move, but still its gentle laugh rang out. For the first time, he could tell that it was female.

_"Actually I am, but I couldn't show myself in my real body. I had to suit your mindset."_ The fox glanced at the empty, even surroundings. _"It's an apt form, but that's what worries me."_

_"Why?"_

_"You have to remember who you are, but I can't help you as much as I'd like and we're short on time. Why you're even here, in this state-"_ the fox cut off, a hint of worry and anger tainting her voice. Her tail twitched once, then settled back into stillness.

It seemed important that he remember, although he couldn't fathom why. Still, what else was there to do here?

_"I'll do my best,"_ he answered simply. _"I just don't know what to do."_

The fox stood up. _"I'll help you by giving you a little push. Don't fight back, let it lead you where you have to go and, most importantly, try to remember."_

_"Lead me where?"_ The fox didn't answer. She took two small steps forward and touched him with her nose.

The whiteness immediately rushed away, dissolving into a storm of colors and sounds. He panicked. The sudden onslaught was too aggressive compared to the calm passivity of the white surroundings he had inhabited and it was like the shrieking, painful voice was back again. He tried to fight the strengthening, raging storm, to hoard back the white nothingness, but as he did so he recalled the fox's words. Dare he trust her? What if it was a trap? His moment of hesitation cost him the only chance he had to turn back. The rush caught him fully, dragging him away.

At first there were only smells: the stink of garbage, pollution, machinery and humanity. The following smudges of colors like paint thrown carelessly on a wall were no more heartening. The slow-moving, desolate streaks were a cold and wet grey or various tones of browns and blacks. There was an occasional splash of brighter colors, but those reds, blues or greens were garish and aggressive rather than joyful.

The sounds that joined the miserable canvas were deafening and made no sense to him. Most depressing of all, however, was the strong sense of familiarity that slowly grew within him as he struggled to understand what he was seeing, to remember what it was and why it was important. He didn't want this to be a part of who he was, but it would be like denying that his arm was part of his body. He knew as much. Reluctantly, he tried to force the blurry images and chaotic sounds into a more comprehensible whole, but it felt like swimming against a powerful current.

A burst of colors. It was sudden and bright, lively and cheerful unlike the previous smudges of glowing colors. All movements and sounds came to a complete stop. At first those new shapes were just as indistinct as the rest, but slowly they became clearer. They were flowers, their petals now so clear that they cut razor-sharp against the grey, murky background. They smelled so good, fresh and alive. He soaked it all in greedily. He knew this, and the realization only brought to life a surprisingly vivid yearning for more.

The field of flowers slowly dissolved, but another scene quickly materialized itself before he could grieve its loss. As he fought and toiled to remember those short views into what must be who he was, the scenes gradually became clearer.

A lively, friendly man's voice spoke incomprehensible words behind his back and it was only occasionally interspersed by a deeper, more even one. He was watching what must have been an incomparable view of a city, its lights brightening up the night and hiding the stars, but a heavy rain was lashing the window and the details were distorted. As he listened to the voices he could not understand or recognize, every foreign word was like a knife being pushed under his ribs.

Gravel was biting in his palms as he clung to the precarious perch on which he was sitting, a sharp, cold and pure mountain wind tugging at his clothing. Before him were stretched the jagged, saw-toothed peaks of a mountain range that should have inspired awe and fear but that only invoked a numb stillness.

The woman's shape was vague and indistinct except for a shock of hair so bright and fair that it seemed to crown her head in gold. She had her back turned to him and he thought her shoulders were hunched. "I don't want you to go," she said with only the smallest hint of pleading in her voice. The rich aroma of a freshly baked meatpie hung thick in the air, but to him it smelled of betrayal.

The room was full of lively conversation and hearty laughter. The lighting was poor without being depressing and he couldn't make out the labels on the alcohol bottles neatly arranged on the shelves before him. It didn't matter. Here, anything would be good.

Slowly, the scenes came and went and sometimes revealed their secrets to his furiously working mind. Although the exact same memory -he had to believe they were memories and not just products of his imagination-never came twice, they often held similar elements. Eventually, he saw them enough that he could recognize and name them.

The Midgar slums. Mt. Nibel. The Shinra military compound. Tifa, Barrett and Marlene.

Zack and Sephiroth.

Each new addition was unbelievably painful, yet he relished every single one. The more he recalled, the more he remembered who he was.

His mother was tending a broken window and she motioned for him to stay away. "Don't come nearer, Cloud. There might still be glass shards on the floor."

The images suddenly disappeared, dissolving into the even whiteness again. This time, however, it seemed to have depth and texture, almost as if it were alive.

_"I'm Cloud,"_ he told the fox. She was sitting on her hunches before him. Her snout stretched into what was surely a grin.

_"Not a moment too soon. We can't stay here a minute longer."_

_"What? Why?"_ he asked, surprised and alarmed.

_"I don't have time to explain, but you don't belong here anymore."_

The fox didn't give Cloud a chance to reply. She disappeared, taking him along with her.

 

 

"What do you mean, we're going back?"

The man in charge of herding Cid here and there clearly wasn't any happier about the situation. He scowled, urging Cid down the hall. The later didn't budge. They'd barely joined the rest of the workers, and now they were changing their mind? Cid wasn't sad not to have to fix panels all day, but he wasn't an idiot. This was suspicious as hell. He'd felt that tremor, thank you very much.

"You don't need to know. Get moving!" The man prodded him more forcefully down the hall and away from the rest of the group. Cid finally moved, recognizing that being left alone with only one guard might present escape opportunities. They'd become more lax lately, no doubt thinking he'd been sufficiently cowed by the threat against his friends. It was mostly true, but if he got them out before they realized what was happening, it would become an empty threat.

The red alarm lights came on after the second, stronger tremor, and the third one, powerful enough to nearly knock the two of them off their feet, set off the alarms. Cid cursed loudly enough to be heard over the clamor. He'd recognized that type of explosion, the noise it made and its physical manifestations. Something was wrong with the core energy generators. If they blew up just right, not only would they completely nuke the engines floor and the ones over and under, but the shockwaves would travel down the lines and create a chain of mako explosions that would rip through the whole goddamn ship. If the generators were separated in units throughout the sectors, those shockwaves might still reach them and blow them up just as easily, no matter the security measures. You couldn't contain that kind of surge. The lights and alarms proved that most of them were still functional, but Cid had no intention of being stuck in a tiny cell if the shit hit the fan.

His guard was walking so fast behind him he might as well have been running. Cid waited until they'd taken a few turns away from the group of workers before spinning on his heel and cracking the guard's jaw with a well-placed right hook. The idiot never saw it coming and dropped like a stone. The way they had underestimated him was almost insulting.

The only weapon the guard carried was an electromagnetic rod. It wasn't his spear by a long shot, but it would have to do for now.

Reaching Tifa took only a few short minutes. He wrestled a moment with the cellblock's only guard, having plenty of pent-up frustration to end the scuffle quickly. He then took his keycard and opened the door to a worried and startled Tifa.

"Cid?"

"Surprise," he said but could not manage a grin to go along with it. "Come on, this bloody thing might blow up anytime soon. We gotta run."

Tifa didn't need to be urged out of the cell. "What's going on?"

"No damn clue, but they're having little problems with their core energy generators. You don't want to be here if it sparks."

Tifa's face was grim but determined. "We have to find the others first. Do you know where Cloud is?"

Cid snorted loudly and began striding down the hall. "Hell if I know." He opened the next cell, but it was unoccupied. "Shit." He repeated the process with the seven others, but they were all empty or occupied by the wrong people. "Goddamn it."

"We have to search."

"Fuck, I know already!" he snapped, leaving the other, now-free prisoners to their fate. Tifa was right, they had to look, but this damn colony was huge! Unless they were bloody lucky, they'd get their asses handed to them before they found anybody.

"But we can't just wander around aimlessly, it'll take too long. Can you hack into the system if we find a monitoring room?"

His immediate 'fuck yes' was cut short as he realized that he didn't have his usual equipment and programs to crack into even the President's hidden porn stash. Still, he wouldn't be facing quite that kind of target. Any random monitoring room wouldn't have such tight security.

"Fuck yes," he said nonetheless, then began stomping down the hall.

They had to fight a few times as they made their way down the first halls, taking turns based on crap logic just to justify going there and not the other way, but their presence was a surprise to the troops they met. Obviously, they were more preoccupied by the explosions and their impact. Cid was glad to have Tifa with him; you could hardly ask for a better fighting partner when you didn't have weapons worth a damn. Few of the guys that got hit in the head got up after that first punch.

"We don't have time for this!" she snapped angrily after having dispatched a clumsy guy with a rifle. "We need to find those computers."

"Preaching to the goddamn choir." There hadn't been another explosion so far, but it didn't reassure Cid. It could still happen, and if not, then Shinra would remember about their prisoners and start searching for them. They couldn't afford that attention, not when they were all separated like this.

They eventually stumbled on a small control room of some sort, much to Cid's relief. The two staff members manning it were quickly put out of commission, then Cid let himself fall in one of the chairs and began working on cracking the system and bringing the desired files to life. It wasn't easy, and not just because of the security; this post was apparently used for monitoring the energy grids of this small section of the ship. They didn't have immediate access to more extended plans.

"Can you do it?" Tifa asked, and even if Cid knew she was just worried and twitchy, it still pissed him off.

"Not if you fucking distract me." He almost had it. There! "Shit," he swore as he had the system highlight the different cellblocks. "There are four others, and they're all at different bloody ends of this fat ship!"

Tifa leaned on the back of his chair to examine the plans. "Which one was us?"

Cid pointed to one close by. "With the halls swarming with people, we'll never find Cloud, or the others, before the ship blows up or they start really searching for us." It was about as hopeless as it could get.

"Wait-You said something earlier that reminded me, are there any labs or medical units here?"

Ice cold shivers ghosted down Cid's spine. He tinkered with the computer's settings and highlighted the medical bay.

"There. No holding cells though, it looks like your regular harvesting infirmary layout."

"Cloud will not be there."

Cid should've known that it could, in fact, get worse. They both whipped around at the sound of the low, composed voice that spoke behind them. Cid nearly dropped back in his seat and Tifa froze in place, her face blanching so that she looked like a ghost.

"Can you find him?"

Cid could only gape like an idiot. As far as he knew, Sephiroth was supposed to be dead, not standing there calmly, his face impassive.

"What the fucking hell?" he finally managed to shout, clutching his electromagnetic rod tightly. He bet it wouldn't do much good against that five-foot long katana of his, nor against the gleaming materia in its hilt.

"It doesn't matter. I will find him."

Sephiroth turned and left the room. The movement seemed to jolt Tifa out of her shock. Although she still looked like she'd seen her worst nightmare, she set her jaw determinedly and set out after the apparition.

"Wait, you bastard! What do you mean, you'll find Cloud? Wasn't last time enough?" She bunched her fists when the tall man halted in the hall and raised her arms, ready to pounce. "I'm not going to let that happen."

Cid knew something of those kids' story, but he'd never heard the particulars. He prepared himself for a fight nonetheless. If what Tifa implied was right, he wasn't going to let the famous, supposedly dead General find Cloud.

Sephiroth wore a strange expression as he turned to stare at Tifa. Cid couldn't describe it, but it didn't strike him as the look of an enemy.

"The last bomb I programmed will take the rest of the generators in less than half an hour. I do not intend to leave Cloud to that fate."

"You did this?" Cid said incredulously. It didn't make things better, but at least now he had a goddamn timeframe. "What about all those other people?"

Tifa wasn't in the right state of mind to care one whit about that at the moment. "And I'm supposed to believe you won't just hurt him again?" she snarled, her voice filled with something darker and uglier than Cid had ever heard before.

"No," Sephiroth answered simply. His face didn't betray his feelings, but the edge in his eyes was almost frightening. "Still, I will not hurt Cloud. Whether you help or hinder me, I will still find him."

"Think again!" Tifa moved to attack, but Cid grabbed her arm and held her back. She trashed in his grip, -goddamn but she was strong- looking at him like she didn't know him. "What are you doing?" she hissed.

"We don't fucking have time for this!" he yelled, keeping a firm hold on her arm, just in case. Sephiroth stared for a few moments, then turned and walked away. "I don't know if he's honest or not, but he just admitted that the ship is going to blow up soon! We have to find the others first."

Tifa yanked her arm away forcefully, but she didn't rush the General. "And just let him get to Cloud first?"

"As far as I'm concerned he doesn't know more than us where Cloud is. We check the other blocks, and then if we haven't found anybody we'll chase his ass down. How's that sound?"

It wasn't an easy decision by far, but Tifa took an admirably short time to make up her mind. She looked at Sephiroth's rapidly retreating back, ground her teeth, then resolutely turned the other way.

"I hate this, but you're right. At least he'll probably distract the Shinra and keep them off our backs."

"You think I'm fucking happy about this?" Cid snarled, gesturing with his piece of crap rod. "But I want off this ship, and fast."

Tifa gnashed on her lips for a moment, still torn by the shitty situation, but eventually she nodded and they dashed away.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sudden surge in Sephiroth's mind stalled his hand. She was trying to hold something from him again, to muddle his mind and memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See Chapter 1

Even now she was trying to hide Cloud from him. To all appearances she was currently succeeding, but Sephiroth knew it would only be a very short-lived victory. He could not sense Cloud as he should, but he was not a stupid man. Simple logic and reason were often all that was needed to reach his goals. He cleared a direct path to Hojo's laboratory, his blade leaving a wake of thick red drops against the cold steel plating of the hall floors. He did not chase down those that were smart enough to flee his presence, but nor did he give those that were too slow a second to think it out. They had thrown the dice when they had agreed to wear the Shinra logo on their breast; he did not feel anything about cutting them down.

A man stepped around a corner before Sephiroth reached it, unsurprised by the General's presence and holding his sword with intent. He had come here with a clear goal in mind, one that was mirrored in the hard set of his features.

"You aren't dead," the man stated, a question underlying his words.

A sudden surge in Sephiroth's mind stalled his hand. She was trying to hold something from him again, to muddle his mind and memories. Likely he had known this SOLDIER when he was still under Shinra's employ. Still, he did not try to fight her, to reclaim those memories. They were inconsequential and would not make him change his purpose, thus they were a waste of time.

"No." He could grant him as much, salute his determination. Then Sephiroth raised his sword and attacked. The SOLDIER was strong, of course, but Sephiroth was well and beyond any SOLDIER standards. It took him a few more slashes than with others to bring him down, but the delay was barely noticeable. The man slumped against the wall, blood pooling around his hand. It was still holding on tightly to the hilt.

Sephiroth caught himself looking at the SOLDIER's blank features. Although he was most definitively dead, his eyes were still glowing from mako, a dim purple light that had lost the background of human life.

Sephiroth strode on.

No other SOLDIER came to meet him and the closer he came to Hojo's section, the quieter the halls became. Sephiroth had no illusion that he would actually catch the scientist. The man was like a rat, fleeing into shadows at the first sign of a larger living being. But Hojo could wait. First he had someone to find.

The doors were no more problems than the guards in the halls had been. Sephiroth entered the now-empty laboratory complex as a man enters the old family house where the pictures on the walls reek of stale, uncomfortable memories. This was likely the last place on earth where he wished to be, and once again he'd been forced here by Hojo's doings. She felt it, in his mind, sensed his discomfort and tried to play with it, to fan its flames until he lost control, lost to her. He whipped her into submission. She knew he was getting close to Cloud and wanted very dearly to stop him. What could she possibly hope to accomplish if she did manage to keep them apart?

Sephiroth bypassed the main office entirely, heading straight for the heart of the laboratory where all of the most important experiments were conducted. A lot of the equipment was new but he could devise their purpose easily enough. Hojo had a singularly one-track mind about his research.

As predicted, that's where he found Cloud. He was slumped in a mako tank, lying boneless against the back of the glass like a puppet with its strings cut. Only a thin haze of green fog floated at the bottom of the tank, its concentration too weak to seriously affect a SOLDIER who had received all of his injections, much less someone who'd been toyed with like Cloud. It didn't mean that the mako concentration had not been much stronger earlier, however.

Carefully angling his sword, Sephiroth sliced at the junction between glass and metal support so that the pane of heavy-duty glass would fall outwards instead of shattering on Cloud's irresponsive head. He moved aside to let the structure collapse, then sheathed his sword so that he could reach in and pull Cloud out. The haze of mako had already dissipated in the air, but Sephiroth still felt its passing like a hot and cold tickle that just brushed his skin.

He did not go far with him, settling him down with his back to an inoffensive cabinet, one of the little such furniture in this room. There was a ruckus in his mind, one that was much more difficult to ignore than before, but Cloud was now an anchor that allowed him to push her aside once again. She could not block him anymore, not when Sephiroth had a hand on his arm. He could also feel how she'd had a hand in his current comatose state, but somehow she had not entirely succeeded in her destructive plans. Sephiroth couldn't fathom right now why she had failed, but the important fact was that she had. He concentrated on Cloud.

Cloud's mind was a scrambled mess that was nevertheless slowly piecing itself back together. The process was too slow, however. Neither of them could afford to wait for him to finish the painstaking process of remembering who he was. Sephiroth strengthened his grip on his arm and concentrated. There were no more barriers between them and Sephiroth was not going to let her break their link again.

Trying to coax someone into sanity was no simple task, even when you could hold considerable control over that person's mind. This was a little like trying to show a blind person how to complete a puzzle of a few thousand pieces, with one piece disappearing with every two placed. Besides, destroying was always easier than building and Sephiroth had never excelled at the latter. Still, using no little amount of doubtfully ethical mental control and coercion, Sephiroth managed to bring Cloud back into the realm of consciousness, somewhat. The result, of course, was far from perfect and Cloud was dreadfully confused when he came to.

"Cloud," Sephiroth said evenly, trying to make Cloud focus on him. He refused to let himself feel any kind of relief when the young man's eyes stopped roaming and actually focused on him. He didn't quite meet his eyes, but his chin was a start.

"What?" Cloud's voice was a mumbled croak, but at least he was speaking actual words. This was good progress.

"Cloud, focus for me," Sephiroth insisted. He loosened his hold when Cloud looked down at the fist clutched too tightly around his forearm. "Look at me."

He finally did, slowly, and he showed no emotion when he met Sephiroth's eyes. No surprise, no recognition, no hatred. Sephiroth disliked it, but it would simplify matters for now.

"Zack?" Cloud slurred, uncertain.

Sephiroth could not repress a surprised flinch at the name. She surged forward at this weakness, tackling him with all her might, and it cost him precious moments to bring her back under control. Belatedly, he once again loosened his too-strong hold on Cloud's arm. The young man had put a hand over his, frowning in confused discomfort.

"Zack is gone," Sephiroth said very slowly and clearly. Remembering would likely not help Cloud's recovery, but there was no helping it. It was also better that he was not brought to think that he was alive.

It didn't seem to work. Cloud shook his head slowly. "No. He's-he's somewhere," he continued obstinately.

Many things were at fault here, so Sephiroth held his impatience in check about Cloud's confusion about Zack's state. The subject was creating cracks through which she could seep and weaken him; he needed to put it aside for now.

He would have liked to be able to pluck the information right out of Cloud's head, see what he thought he knew, but he could only control, not read. Considering his slipping stability, it might be better that he did not have this possibility at the moment.

"I'm not Zack," Sephiroth clarified instead. "I'm Sephiroth." He was wasting time, he needed to leave this place.

Cloud shut his eyes in confusion and pain and shook his head, displaying emotion besides befuddlement for the first time. "Who? I don't-"

This amnesia was more painful to discover than he had expected, even though it was not surprising when you considered his level of mako poisoning. He might have been able to force Cloud to remember, but Sephiroth realized that he could not push him further without permanently hurting him. There was only so much he could command Cloud's mind to do. Easing back on his heels with a hidden sigh, Sephiroth considered what to do now. The explosives on the mining colony would finish their work soon, and the moment that happened the mothership would scramble back into a semblance of order and getting out would become more complicated. He also didn't trust himself with Cloud for any prolonged period of time, not when she was fighting so ferociously to get at Sephiroth's mind and thoughts. She had currently gained too much leeway because of Zack's name.

His sword was in his hand before the bass-level growl echoed in the laboratory, making his ribcage vibrate. Sephiroth stood slowly to face his attacker, wondering what kind of creature had gotten loose from Hojo now.

The compact behemoth that was snarling at him was not something Sephiroth had expected, but he was not quite surprised either. He considered the purple creature's stance, its slowly swinging tail and lowered horns, evaluating its intentions. He did not get the feeling that it was feral, as if it knew what it was facing and was thinking it through. Curious.

Sephiroth would never be able to explain exactly why he did not immediately run it through with Masamune, instead reaching for a sleep spell that would only put it out of commission. Admitting to compassion for a creature stuck in Hojo's clutches would be opening the door even wider for her to surge through and attack, so he instead told himself that it was to leave a nasty little surprise to the next person that came into this laboratory.

The spell released, a greenish glow hallowed the monster's form, seeming to disappear into its skin. It didn't fall. Its growl morphed into a roar and it shook its head as if chasing off a fly, but it remained wholly unaffected by the spell. Sephiroth appreciated the challenge and responded in kind when the creature lunged forward, talons and fangs out.

It was deceptively quick considering its mass and the length of its horns and arms gave it a reach similar to a short sword. It was also quite resistant to magic. Sephiroth was reluctant to use strong spells in a confined space, and their weaker counterparts did not affect it strongly. Still, despite its surprising intellect in battle and strength, it was no serious threat to Sephiroth. When he deemed that it was sufficiently weakened by its injuries, he cast the sleep spell again. The beast tried to fight it off, nearly succeeded, but finally succumbed and crumbled to the ground.

Sephiroth waited a minute to make sure that it was not a trick before walking to it. Preparing a trap would only work if it didn't slam its jaws on Cloud before he recovered enough to flee or fight. Wrestling the heavy, unresponsive body was no easy task, but Sephiroth transferred it to the next room and locked the door in short order. Now he could turn to Cloud. This little scuffle had cost him all the time he'd had left. He knelt before Cloud, whose eyes were more intent than before. Sephiroth could feel that recognition was just there on the edge.

"You have to get out of here," Sephiroth said intently. He tried to impress the necessity of this action into Cloud's mind, but the concept had nothing to grasp yet and did not take. Sephiroth did not want to make it a direct command so he focused on good old verbal coercion instead. "I will clear a path. Get out," he said again. A thought struck him and he reached in Masamune's hilt for a materia, transferring it into Cloud's simple, two-slot bracer. Let him wonder at where it had come from; for now it was more important that he had something to fight with until he found an actual weapon.

As satisfied as he could possibly get, Sephiroth stood and left the laboratory.

 

Vincent awoke to the feel of a hand on his shoulder. At first everything was thick and slow as if his mind was wallowing in molasses, but then he recognized the taste of iron in the back of his throat that Galian always left behind. His memories and senses came into sharp focus and he opened his eyes.

The hand belonged to Cid. The man looked relieved for a moment before frustration slid back in its usual place. His features were drawn with exhaustion.

"Finally awake. It's about time," he grouched, and Vincent now knew the man just enough not to be surprised or insulted by the tone.

Carefully, Vincent raised himself to a sitting position. It seemed to be a common occurrence for him to wake up from an unnatural sleep to find Cid's face hovering nearby. He noticed after a short wave of dizziness that Aerith was kneeling on his other side.

"How are you feeling?" she asked solicitously. Vincent watched her carefully, looking for any signs of injury or affliction. He didn't know where she'd been kept and what could have possibly happened to her during their captivity. How had she escaped?

"What happened?" he demanded instead of answering. He felt tired and fragile, but most of all he was groggy. Some of those symptoms could be attributed to Galian; he would have to sort through those memories to see what he'd done.

"You were put under a sleep spell. Can you remember what happened?" she answered, settling back on her heels but leaning forward slightly to accommodate her staff. Where had she found a weapon?

Vincent could, in fact, remember what had happened, but making sense of anything that had occurred through Galian's eyes was challenging at best. The beast did not perceive the world like humans did. It was all scents and sounds and instincts and translating those cues into human thought patterns took some effort. Still, he had quite a bit of practice and managed to piece Galian's adventures together.

"Sephiroth was here," he finally answered. He had expected surprise. He only got an aggravated sigh from Cid.

"We'd assumed as much. Shit." Cid rubbed a palm against his eyes. "You wouldn't happen to have a clue what he was here for, do you?"

Vincent thought it over, but Galian was not that perceptive. "No. But it might have something to do with Cloud." He could remember seeing the young man close to Sephiroth, but he hadn't cared at all at the time.

"Yeah, we know that as well." Cid jerked his thumb over his shoulder. Vincent twisted his neck and noticed all of the people gathered nearby. A quick headcount confirmed that they were all present, Cloud, Tifa and RedXIII. He would wonder later at the improbable odds that they had managed to find each other across two gigantic ships.

His eyes arrested on RedXIII's. Cid and Aerith's expressions and body language clearly indicated that they had not found him as Galian; he'd luckily reverted back before they arrived. It also meant that RedXIII had not said a word about what he'd witnessed. As they exchanged a stare, RedXIII flicked an ear unconcernedly.

_I will not say anything_ , he seemed to be meaning. Vincent hoped that he was not interpreting him wrong.

"We shouldn't be discussing this now," Aerith declared, pushing herself to her feet. "If you're feeling up to it, we have to go."

"Bloody well right," Cid agreed, doing the same. He extended a hand to help Vincent up, but he refused it. The movement made him remember that Galian had fought Sephiroth and had been injured in the process, yet he wasn't in any pain.

"Who healed me?"

Aerith tapped a finger on her bracer. "I did. I'm sorry if you're still tender, but I didn't have much of a selection when I stole this."

She'd found an armory or deposit of some kind. Vincent wished he could say the same for himself, but his gun and materia had been taken away and he would not find them again.

"Enough of this. We're getting the bloody hell out now," Cid snapped. He turned to the others. "Does anybody have any clue where to go?"

His question included everybody but he was looking specifically at Cloud. The young man's features were white and drawn, his eyes uncharacteristically emotional, almost harassed. His posture screamed of discomfort and tension. Yet he was also clearly very determined.

"The auxiliary space dock. We'll have to cross populated areas, but it'll be less guarded than the main dock," he answered.

Cloud led the way as they filed out of the laboratory. It was not the one where Vincent had been kept, but he could still recognize Hojo's presence in its installations. He was glad when they finally emerged in the main hall.

He remembered the blood on the walls through Galian's eyes. It was less impersonal with his human perspective, but Vincent was still good at not letting it affect him. The cold, rational part of him saw each and every body as one less enemy to delay them.

The almost uninterrupted trail of death still raised the question of who had done this, but the answer was not hard to guess and just as easy to confirm through Galian's memories.

"Are we really going to follow Sephiroth's trail?" Tifa asked aloud, frowning at a set of boot prints that had flaked away dried blood. "It could be a trap."

"I don't think so," Cloud replied. "Sephiroth doesn't need to use traps. At least this way we'll meet less resistance."

There was an exchange of glances, almost everybody looking at everybody, but nobody asked anything. Vincent could see it in their eyes; he imagined it was in his as well: what was going on? There were partial answers here and there, but nobody seemed to have the full picture, except perhaps Tifa where Cloud was concerned.

For now, silence was the preferred answer.

Cloud broke away from Sephiroth's bloody path without explanation and wound his way down slightly more populated halls. They met a little resistance, but no SOLDIERs, only regular grunts. Surely they were out hunting, guarding, scouting, but they would not do so here, not at first. Cloud had brought them right to the SOLDIER training compound.

"In here," Cloud said, and punched in a code on the security pad beside boring, dirty grey service doors. The lock pinged negatively and refused access. Cloud huffed sharply. "Worth a try."

"Guess it's time for some dirty tricks," Cid declared, taking Cloud's place by the keypad. "What's behind this anyways? I ain't got no tools or programs to crack this egg if it's too thick."

"SOLDIER basic weapons storage."

That prompted a crooked grin out of Cid. "Great."

In the end Cid was able to break the code, but it still took long enough to make everybody nervous. Shinra was bound to discover their escape and come after them soon. Vincent knew first-hand that every public nook and cranny, and then some private ones (but nobody admitted to that) were under camera surveillance. They had to keep moving.

The storage was indeed for basic purposes, but those often being training, it contained a wide range of possible weapons. Cid found himself a standard-issue spear, non-retractable, but it came with its back holster. The pistols were in decent shape; finding anything but blank shots was more troublesome, but a locked cabinet obligingly spilled its content once it was broken open. Tifa found fighting gloves and Cloud selected the best Buster Sword, and they were ready to go.

There were no materia, but that was to be expected. Even SOLDIERs didn't have free access to those, they were all specifically issued to each individual. But they'd make do.

The alarms started when they were out of the training compound and back on the bloody path. Swearing fused from Cid as they all picked up the pace, following Cloud's lead. He didn't stick to Sephiroth's trail for much longer, breaking off to reach the auxiliary docks as quickly as possible.

"Still too quick. I'd hoped they wouldn't find about us for a while," Aerith said darkly.

She didn't know the half of it. Hojo's whole lab section was likely still on a closed feed. As a Turk, Vincent had never been able to access the security recordings easily, if at all. Then again, their intrusion on the mothership had been anything but subtle, perhaps they were just going after those of them that had escaped from the colony.

Nevertheless, the result would be the same. Vincent had defeated all odds and survived a few years in a cryogenic pod with no set coordinates, no distress beacon. He was not going to be so easily captured again.

Strangely enough, there didn't seem to be any surge of soldiers and guards in their section. In fact, it was still deceptively quiet. They reached the outer halls of the auxiliary docks with only a few minor scratches. Vincent couldn't believe that it would be so easy, Shinra could not have changed so much so quickly. Something was going on.

And then they hit the security doors with the internalized opening mechanism. The only way to open them was via the small round key dock, no bigger than a thumbnail. That got Cid going on the multilingual swearing again.

"No way I'm opening that, not without tools," Cid cursed, slamming the butt of his spear against the door. "We'll have to find another way."

Cloud shook his head. "The whole section is secured with these doors. If this one's locked, they will all be. Nobody is going in or out."

"Then we find someone who has the key," Tifa suggested.

"Only one person has the authority to manually unlock these doors. We do not have the time to search," Vincent added. His words earned him a few stares and startled looks, but he ignored them. They already knew he had ties with Shinra, one way or another.

He hadn't been entirely forthcoming, however. The Turks also had the keys for these types of doors. They actually had the keys and codes for every single door in the ship, even Hojo's labs and the President's quarters. Of course, not all of them had been acquired through the proper legal channels, but that had never stopped the Turks. Doing business illegally was practically written in the job description.

"It's still no good staying here. We have to find another way," Tifa said. She was right. But what possible way could they find when the whole ship was likely to be under lockdown?

Their predicament was solved when the doors mysteriously wooshed open by themselves. Weapons were raised and Cloud's materia began glowing, prepared to incinerate any enemy that appeared across the hall.

Nobody had expected to see a huge white plushie wearing a bouncy cat as a hat. Vincent nearly fired, but the sheer strangeness of it delayed his finger just long enough for him to recognize the cat in question.

"Cait!" Aerith exclaimed, lowering her staff. "What are you doing here?"

The AI deftly reeled in a wire so that it disappeared in the confines of its tail.

"Escaping, what else?" he answered in a tone that suggested he couldn't believe she'd needed to ask. "I saw you on the camera feeds and came to your rescue!" he added too dramatically for the situation. "Come on!"

"With…that?" Tifa pointed at the idiotically grinning robotic plushie. Was it a moogle? It wasn't an AI, that was obvious.

Cait patted the thing on the head. "They stuck me in with this guy until they could decide what they were going to scrap me into. It was a piece of cake to interface with it. Quite useful, really, those fists pack a surprising wallop!"

"We can talk later. Cait, we need to steal a ship," Cloud said, already moving down the now-open hall.

"No problem. I'll take care of the hatch and transmissions. Nobody'll be chasing us until we're out of communication range." Cait nodded with determination, setting its pet moogle in motion. It bounced forward with surprising ease and fluidity.

"Can you do it from the ship?"

"Now I can," Cait confirmed, once again poking at its new partner. "Its primary function was spying and long-distance sub-communications. I can piggyback on its signal to patch myself in the control systems and take control of whatever we need."

"That thing was made for _spying_?" Cid explained in disbelief.

Cait twisted back and offered Cid a hurt look. "You can plonk this guy down about anywhere there're kids without arousing suspicion. And while people laugh at it, it connects to any communication system it needs, records and transmits everything that's said and done. Pretty useful."

"Goddamn Shinra."

"Pretty useless damning the dead," Cait muttered.

"What?" half of the people present exclaimed. To their credit, they didn't stop moving. They didn't even hesitate when they stumbled on dock workers, neutralizing them quickly and efficiently.

"You didn't hear? Why did you think the alarms were ringing like that, that they locked down the ship? Not for us, we can't be that important." Cait paused, building expectation. "President Shinra's been murdered."

Stunned silence fell over the little group. They remained quiet as they dealt with the next Shinra group they encountered. Judging from how those were also surprised to find intruders, Cait Sith had probably interfered with communications, prevented the group from being discovered. It would explain why they weren't being swarmed.

"Good fucking riddance!" Cid unsurprisingly broke the silence once they were on their way again. They were just outside the docking bay and were waiting for Cait Sith to do his part.

"I'm not so sure…" Aerith hesitated.

"The miss is right. Rufus Shinra's taking over the company, and he's not like his old man. Things aren't going to get any prettier," Caith confirmed, his robotic body drooping convincingly.

"Who did it?" RedXIII asked.

"Sephiroth. Or at least, his sword."

"No matter where we look, Sephiroth is there! Something's going on." Tifa turned to Cait Sith. "Can you open that door and get us a ship? Whatever's happening, I don't think we want to find out."

"Getting there," Caith answered. His puppet moogle began humming faintly, emitting a deep vibration. The cat itself got this glazed look in its artificial eyes and it went perfectly still for a few long minutes. "Ok," it finally said. "The camera feeds are on loop and I've got access to all the security hurdles. All communications are down, but it won't stop those techs in the control room from physically trying to get to us once we power up the ship. We'll have to hurry."

Vincent marveled at how its voice managed to sound strained even though it could not physically feel anything.

They didn't waste any time once they were inside. They surrounded Cid's designated ship -a small messenger-class ship, it had no fire power but it was incredibly fast-while the pilot hacked into the systems and activated the engines with a little of Caith Sith's help.

The mayhem of President Shinra's murder and the subsequent lockdown were playing in their favor. The techs and remaining guards did come after them once they realized that unauthorized personnel were stealing a spaceship, and some of them managed to deal some damage, but in the end they couldn't request backup and they were unsuccessful.

Vincent stood at the bottom of the boarding ramp and covered their retreat as Aerith helped a limping Tifa into the ship. RedXIII was the last one to enter, covering the distance with two easy strides, his red fur around his chops and down his neck darkened by fresh blood. Nobody living, or at least mobile enough to be a threat, was left within shooting range, so Vincent retreated back inside and lowered the crank to close the boarding ramp.

The only problem with fast messenger ships was that they weren't meant to hold that many passengers. There was only the lone pilot's seat and an extra one squeezed in the cargo hold. That one was occupied by Tifa as Aerith was wrapping a makeshift bandage around her left leg.

"I hope everybody's ready," Cid called from the front. "It's going to be a shaky ride."

Cait Sith emitted a low whine like engines losing power. "We gotta go. I'm not going to be able to keep control of things as long as I thought."

"Tifa?" Cloud inquired; he'd tangled himself in the thick security nets lining the walls of the storage compartment. Vincent imitated him, making sure the security of his pistol was set.

"Just go, Cid!" she answered, and strapped herself in.

"Alright, hold on to something!"

The ship broke its inertia with a rumble and a terrible shaking across the hull that was either a very, very bad sign, or a testament to how Cid was pushing the ship to leave as soon as possible. And, for the third time already, they began fleeing from Shinra.

Cait Sith did his job. A dock was selected and unlocked, and nothing was on their tail yet. The big white plushie was slumped forward, its long arms dragging on the ground as Cait concentrated. There was now a constant whirring sound coming from one or both of the machines.

Piloting and hacking, they made their way off the mothership and far enough away from its area of influence and communication to hope that they would be able to avoid pursuit, or at least delay it. Eventually, Cait Sith collapsed on the head of his big mascot.

"I'm disconnected," he whined, and proceeded to stop moving and talking altogether.

They flew in silence for a moment. The ship was unstable but not so much that it was dangerous. Yet. Red untangled himself from his share of the security nets and lay down, legs splayed somewhat to steady himself.

"What now? We may as well escape, but we have to land somewhere."

Tifa stirred in her seat. "I've been thinking about it. We should call Barrett."

Cloud turned pensive and Cid grunted.

Who was Barrett?

"Guess we should," Cid finally agreed. "I'll contact Avalanche."

"Avalanche?" Aerith inquired, speaking loudly to be heard over the noise from the engines.

"An anti-Shinra group that used to operate in the Midgar system," Tifa answered. "We know them well."

"Used to?"

Tifa grimaced, and it wasn't due to the pain in her leg. "Something went wrong and they had to run away. They've kept to the Kalm moon lately."

"And we can trust them?" Vincent asked, keeping his voice as empty of accusations as possible. His question still earned him something of a slanted look from Cloud.

"Yes," the young man answered shortly and confidently. Vincent would have to make do with that to soothe any worries.

Kalm. Vincent had been there a long time ago, when it was still a small colony peacefully occupying a moon gravitating around the biggest planet of the Midgar system, Sector Three, accepting Shinra's energy in exchange for willfully not noticing its origins and its consequences.

As they flew on, Vincent wondered if he would even recognize the settlement.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of the crossposting! Chapter ten will be shiny new content!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I need to speak with him.” He inhaled deeply, because it was going to come up eventually if he stuck around. “About his mother.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here be shiny new content!

Kalm was as tranquil as Cloud remembered. He had been here only a handful of times during his time as a Shinra grunt and while most of those memories were hazy, he could still recall the feeling of the place. Sleepy, slow-paced Kalm, happy to just _be_ and consciously not looking further than that.

The topography of the moon was flat, the fields swept by cold, dry winds. Although the land was slowly changing under the effects of mako energy consumption byproducts, becoming fragile and brittle, the difference was not as startling as on Sector Three and Cloud could still find some peace in it. It had been a long time since he’d felt alone. It was strange, but he’d missed it a little.

Cloud had unearthed a proper sheath for his replacement sword and a set of whet stones and oil in the few Kalm town shops. He set to work at oiling and sharpening his equipment to higher standards. They wouldn’t be able to stay here long before Shinra tracked them down, but for now the mothership seemed content to remain a few systems away.

A hedgehog-like animal poked its head out from behind a faraway bush. Cloud stopped his work and stared back it. The animal seemed happy to just look forward blankly, ears twitching, until a shuffling noise made it duck for cover again.

Cloud knew who it was from the steady footfalls. Tifa stood beside him for a moment before sitting down on the bare ground, leaning back on her hands and stretching her partially healed leg. It was a long time before she spoke.

“Nothing’s been decided yet,” she started quietly. “Most of them are still nursing their drink, mulling over your story.”

His sword was as sharp as he could get it. Cloud double-checked the state of the leather before slipping it in the harness.

“Are you ok?”

This wasn’t a question Cloud was overly fond of. He normally replied with a noncommittal shrug or dismissal, but not with Tifa. She knew him too well and didn’t let him get away with it.

_“Hey Strife, you ok?”_

_“Fine.”_

_“Obviously. Come on, up we go. Let’s get you patched up so we can keep sparring.”_

He shrugged nonetheless, but allowed himself a sigh. “I can feel him in my head.”

Tifa looked askance at him, open and honest, simply waiting.

“It’s like having him looking over my shoulder all the time,” he elaborated, unsure himself of what he was feeling. “It started when I came to in the mothership.”

“Do you think he can also feel you?”

“Perhaps.” A pause. “I was sure he was dead.” His voice was miserable and he didn’t try to hide it.

Tifa folded forward enough to start plucking idly at the grass. She remained silent for a while.

“When he met us –me and Cid--, he said that he would find you. I was a bit too angry to pay more attention, but he sounded really sure.” Tifa smiled humorlessly. “He said he wouldn’t hurt you. And it doesn’t look like he did.”

Cloud considered her words for a moment, mentally poking at the strange sort of link he was sure connected him to the unexpectedly alive General. He stopped quickly. He couldn’t face him.

“That’s what I don’t understand.”

Most of his memories of the Nibelheim incident were not crystal clear, but a few of them were as sharp as if they had happened a few moments ago. The worst of them was Sephiroth striking down Zack before putting Masamune through Cloud’s stomach. His eyes had been mako-cold and entirely empty, a man alive but destroyed.

“None of us do,” Tifa said. “Only Sephiroth knows, I think.”

He’d already reached that conclusion before, but it did not ease the churning in his stomach. He put a hand over the scar on his abdomen. Sephiroth had not held back then. What could have changed this time? They had never been able to extract any clue from Hojo about Sephiroth’s sudden rampage, seeing as they were being experimented on. Could it really have been mako-poisoning? So suddenly? And did it mean he was now cured?

“I have to find Zack,” he said instead, keeping his thoughts to himself.

Tifa inhaled noisily. “We don’t know if he’s even alive.” She reached over and plucked the fire materia from his bracer. It was warm even when deactivated, pulsing with higher levels of magic that Cloud could not use quite yet. Tifa leveled it up against the sky and it seemed to glow faintly, a core of red lost in the green. “Sephiroth, we now know for sure.”

Cloud looked at her in surprise. “You want me to chase after him? And abandon Zack?”

“Us,” she corrected. “And no, I really don’t. But I can’t stop you.”

Cloud shook his head. “Zack—“

“—might be alive or dead.” He flinched a little every time she said it, but she refused to let him forget the possibility. It would hurt him too much otherwise, she said. “Perhaps you’ll find a clue about Zack while going after Sephiroth.”

Knowing their history, it was not stretching logic to assume that they would be linked somehow.  

Still . “I don’t know where to find him, either.”

“What about that link you mentioned?”

Reluctantly, afraid of what he might find, Cloud looked more attentively at that heavy, spike-edged shape that was Sephiroth at the back of mind. He couldn’t begin to make heads nor tails from the feeling, but confusion didn’t mean it couldn’t work if he figured this out.

“Maybe,” he finally conceded.

Tifa bumped her shoulder against his and stayed there, rolling the materia in her palms. He could hear the strained smile in her voice. Always so understanding, so supporting. She had already picked him up in pieces and put him back together. He couldn’t ask her to do it again.

“Just be careful,” she said simply. She didn’t bother to clarify.

Now he did shrug, but didn’t jostle her off. “I’m not giving up on Zack.”

“I’ll miss the others, though,” she continued as if he hadn’t spoken. Or rather, like she implied that one course of action did not exclude the other.  “They were fun to be with, even if we were running for our lives.”

“Yeah,” he replied noncommittally, staring at the Kalm landscape.

_“That helmet makes you look so serious.”_

_“I_ am _serious.”_

_“So am I. C’mon, I’m telling you, I cleared it, you won’t get in trouble.”_

_“No.”_

_“Uh-oh, not the tone. Fine. If you won’t come to the surprise, I guess I’ll just have to bring him to you.”_

_“What are you talking about? Who’s him?”_

_“Guess you’ll just have to find out! Be right back!”_

_“Zack--!”_

“And where else do you think I’ll go? My business’ as good as gone and the Highwind’s in pieces. I owe a couple of someones a knuckle sandwich.”

“I’ve been rottin’ here long enough. I’m gonna go crazy if I don’t do somethin’!”

“Your objectives concern me very little, but as long as our trajectories match, I will help you.”

“The UNPP isn’t safe for me right now. Besides, I think I can help.”

“If there’s a party somewhere, then I’m going!”

Cloud’s mixed expression of dismay and affection for his friends was quite comical. He looked more lost as each of his companions found reasons to tag along in his chase after Sephiroth, no matter his protests towards their safety. It really was a hopeless case. Even that cat AI had decided to follow, even though of all of them it had the least motives of following. It made it very suspicious, but as Shinra had not descended upon them yet, Vincent was content to simply keep a sharp eye open.

“What about you, Vincent? You coming?”

The question came from Cid. Vincent looked at the gruff pilot, brimming with pent-up energy now that he had recovered from his ordeal on the mothership. He had lost everything again, his ship, his business, but instead of looking depressed he just seemed to have even more energy, as if a crisis was really what brought out all of his motivation.

Vincent nodded slowly. “I would like to meet Sephiroth.” He could see in the others’ stares that they expected more. “I have unfinished business.” And that was all he was willing to say for now on the matter.

“You guys.” Tifa smiled enough for all of them. “Alright! Let’s figure out our next move then!”

What followed was a busy session of brainstorming, cheerful and energetic. This Barret person had come to meet them, hiding them in a warren of caves dug in a small Kalm hill, right underneath the main shops (and within easy reach of their power lines). Although Vincent could not trust him yet, he thought that he could be a useful asset. Unless so much time had passed that he’d lost all his skills at judging characters, he was fairly certain that Barret might be reliable enough.

“What’re you brooding over now?” Cid prompted as he came to sit beside him, playing with his lit cigarette.

“Brooding?” Vincent couldn’t help but repeat.

“Yeah. Haven’t said a word, but I’m sure you have something or other to say about this plan.”

“Perhaps,” he replied noncommittally. “As long as I get to Sephiroth, I do not care.”

Cid stared fixedly at him, his eyes slightly squinted, as if he was trying to physically see one of Vincent’s secrets on his face. Eventually he growled and huffed.

“Ok, sorry, I ain’t usually one to pry, but I gotta ask. Why?”

Vincent raised a surprised eyebrow. After so much, he hadn’t expected such a straightforward question. He felt compelled to answer, a least a little, but it would only raise questions about matters that he was absolutely not willing to discuss.

Cid took it as a negative sign. He backpedaled, flapping a hand. “It’s just. You’ve been tagging along all this time, and ok, strength in numbers and all, but now? You already knew about Sephiroth when you woke up but that pod was _ancient.”_

_Perceptive._ A slight exaggeration on the cryogenic pod’s virtues, or lack thereof, but the fact remained. Vincent was fairly sure that the pilot had no clue how close he was to the truth. That his looks belied his age and that he’d heard of Sephiroth before the General’s birth, before his cryo-sleep. A few calculations using the pod’s model and Sephiroth’s age would reveal some possible overlaps in time.

“Shinra recycled older technology,” he said in lieu of answer.

Cid harrumphed his opinion of that. “You kidding me? The company has a record of liking shiny new toys.”

Vincent shrugged. “I have been asleep for some time.”

The pilot gave him a shrewd look. His grumpy demeanor made it easy to forget that he was a smart man.

“Sure. Throw me a bone, why don’t ya.”

Still reluctant, Vincent recalled the Highwind’s carcass and the injured crew. _Me,_ Cid had said, not _we._ He dropped his voice.

“I need to speak with him.” He inhaled deeply, because it was going to come up eventually if he stuck around. “About his mother.”

Cid grimaced rather comically, all things considered, which helped to alleviate the acid rising up in his throat, burning.

“Women! Aw shit, I get it. Sorry I asked. Except no, I ain’t, but anyways. I don’t want to mix up in _that_ kind of problem, so. Yeah.”

Bringing forth the memories of Lucrecia, even this briefly, was too painful, so Vincent concentrated on Cid and couldn’t help but smile a little at his babbling. It seemed he was getting all sorts of strange and quite erroneous ideas about this.

“Hey!” His smile earned him knuckles in the bicep, but it was more force than precision and did not do much to hurt. “You’re a creepy-ass bastard, you know?”

“Yes.”

The straightforward answer had the desired effects, but Cid’s spluttering got the others’ attention. Vincent sobered.

“Looks like we missed a joke,” Aerith said cheerfully, peering at each one in turn.

“No, you really didn’t. So, did you kids get your shit straight or not?” Cid answered grumpily, crossing his arms.

“Almost.”

And, strangely, it involved chocobos again.

 

 

Cid wasn’t keen on admitting it, but he had a trained eye for decent bird-flesh and he made sure it stayed that way. He wouldn’t trade a bike for a chocobo, but he could appreciate their mechanics. It was all about balance, really, just like with two-wheeled vehicles. A heavy-chested bird that spent half its energy compensating backwards would never make it big on the race-track.

And that’s why he knew that the stock in the surrounding plains were average at best.

The chocobo jerked against the reins, but Vincent had a good grip on it and wasn’t letting it go. It was small, with a weak chest and missing feathers. The way its spine’s curve was too pronounced, it was unlikely to be able to bear anyone for too long. Cid said so.

Vincent shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. We’re not going to ride them far.”

Cid huffed. “It won’t have an easier time of it.”

Faced with a raised eyebrow, he threw his hands up and began leading his own mount away. “Whatever! We don't have time to be picky. Let’s just get back to the ranch.”

The chocobo ranch was unsurprisingly isolated from everything else on the Kalm moon. It ran a business of renting stalls and caring for other people’s birds. Kalm seemed to enjoy the sport enough that the farmers could scrounge a small living out of it.

It was still surprising to find ranches like this, planets away from the Gold Saucer and in a growing mako-energy world. Considering the installations, Cid smelled smuggling. He was curious as to what.

They were not the first to come back with their birds, but Aerith and Barrett were still in the fields. A ranch hand came to meet them and take the chocobos. His face was openly unimpressed when he took the reins.

“Lucky you’re not going far,” he grumbled, herding the unwilling beasts to the corral.

“You should’ve picked a better place to set up shop, then. The herds are crap,” Cid countered, which was only one more argument supporting his smuggler theory. He followed the ranch hand to see the ones Cloud and Tifa had brought back. He was vindicated when they were hardly better. In fact, looking attentively, Cid was sure the smaller one was blind in one eye. It was a miracle it wasn’t dissolving in something’s guts.

“They used to be better,” the kid mumbled as he coerced the chocobos inside the pen with their brethren.

“Sure,” Cid replied noncommittally, because he was not going there. “Will they manage?”

“Guess so.” The ranch hand walked away as RedXIII came to them. His presence unsettled the chocobos, but he was careful to stay a distance away and as much downwind as he could so they wouldn’t bolt. He’d been unanimously rejected from the hunting expeditions the moment they’d seen his lolling, hungry feline grin.

Aerith had asked where the feathers in his mane came from. Nobody had much liked the answer.

“These are sorry beasts,” RedXIII remarked as he stood beside them, tail swinging in lazy arcs from side to side.

“How would you know?” Cid couldn’t help but ask, immediately knowing that it was a stupid goddamn question and that he didn’t want to know the answer.

RedXIII was far too obliging for that, though. He cocked his head, considering the question way too seriously.

“They’re good for training youngsters. They’re weak and fragile. But their meat is stringy and only good in an emergency.” The feline beast moved closer to the corral, hunching minutely forward as the birds caught his scent and raised their heads nervously, crests twitching. “For a true hunt and proper meal, these would not do. Seek a wild black.”

Yep, most definitively not liking where this was going. Chocobos were not food (unless you’re starving). They were transportation and entertainment.

Vincent, the sneaky bastard, didn’t let the matter drop there.

“Wild black?”

RedXIII nodded. “Rare, fast and vicious. To catch one was to celebrate with the whole tribe.” His stance uncoiled and he lost his predatory edge.

Something was going on here that was more complicated than it seemed. Cid figured it was about time they stopped talking of chocobos and food in the same sentences.

“You ever been to the Gold Saucer?” he asked Vincent instead, because he’d never seen a black chocobo in the wild, but Joey was mighty famous for a reason.

Vincent nodded. “A few times.”

Cid didn’t wait to see if more would be forthcoming. There usually never was more to come. So instead he occupied the silence by trying to imagine gloomy, secretive red-dressed Vincent in the chocobo race crowd, or better yet, outside the holographic boxing pen, swinging around at an imaginary foe. He didn’t bother holding back a snort of laughter.

Vincent raised an eyebrow at him. It was cool on the Kalm fields and he’d tied up his coat (face-flap? Coat-scarf?) up all gazillion buttons, leaving only his eyes visible between that and his hair. It didn’t matter. Between Cloud and now Vincent, Cid was getting a goddamn degree in eyebrow-speech. The guy was laughing at something. Good, so was Cid.

“You any good at the bike races?” he asked, turning away from the coral. Aerith and Barret should be back soon.

“I’ve never had a chance to try them,” was the steady reply.

“Deal. If Sephiroth ever stops by the Gold Saucer for some fun and games after all that rampaging, we’ll race.”

“Very well.” Vincent paused and became very still. He stared forward at the empty fields fixedly before speaking again. “What do you two know of Sephiroth?”

Cid exhaled heavily. God _damn_ it. Before he could speak, RedXIII inclined his head, his beads clicking together. He’d forgotten the beast was there.

“Cloud knows more than any of us. For my part, I only know what the news would spread. My hometown isn’t close; we received little and late. But he seemed to be a great warrior and a fearsome tactician, especially for his age. As for the right or wrong of his actions, that’s harder to say.”

“How old is he?”

RedXIII shrugged. “There was never an official statement. Mid twenties, maybe older, I’d guess.”

“Cid?”

The pilot shrugged. “I guess that sounds right. I never worked with him directly. He was a cool customer, though. Maybe even worse than you.” He added the last as a joke, but it didn’t seem to have too much impact.

“We’ll see,” was the simple answer.

Thankfully, Aerith and Barret showed up on the horizon at just about that time, each leading a bird and distracting everyone from the gloom that had just settled. Their birds were in slightly better shape, but not by much. Cid couldn’t quite believe that he was going to put his life in the hands of these sorry animals.

“We’re all doomed,” he grouched. “Alright, might as well get this over with.”

 

 

The cell was walled all in glass, its slight outward curve reminiscent of the more single-purposed mako tanks. Hojo made his way to it within six steps. The outer room had not been designed to be spacious, quite the contrary. As far as the mothership databases (and everyone but himself) were concerned, this room did not exist and was just a span of floor in his more open-spaced lab.

The figure inside was stretched out on the floor, hands to the side and still as a corpse except for his expanding chest. That was exactly how Hojo had left him and how he expected to find him. Hands clasped behind his back, he leaned forward pensively. 

He had managed to keep this little piece of experiment hidden for a very long time, funneling funds from other projects and polishing hacking skills he'd never had any interest in to keep it all in shadows. If he let him out now he assuredly would not be able to keep it secret from the meddling Turks, much less Shinra. 

Most importantly, however, was the experiment even ready?

Tests were conclusive. His responses and inhibitions to physical and psychological stimuli all functioned within optimal parameters. Susceptibility was exclusive and his physical condition had adapted and stabilized so that no negative symptom outside regular side effects had arisen for over 200 days.

Yes, but how would any of that hold in the face of what would assuredly come? 

Hojo allowed himself only the briefest moment of hesitation before rapping once on the glass. Immediately the man inside rose to his feet and waited.

The tests had reached the limit of what could be determined within controlled laboratory conditions. If he wished to learn more, the next logical step was to let him out. All results, including failure, would only serve to further his research and perfect the next subject. 

Hojo opened the door to the glass cell and gestured for his experiment to step out and follow him. He had him outfitted and armed in short order, with the necessary authorizations to take a small space shuttle for an undetermined amount of time. Finally he gave him a sheath of paper.

"These are you targets. Find and neutralize. Do not contact me until you have them," Hojo ordered. Although absolute secrecy would be an exercise in futility, he would benefit from discretion.

The experiment nodded, mako-bright eyes empty. He listened as Hojo gave him a few more directions, absorbing it all with an impassive face. Hojo bemoaned not being able to follow and record all the changes, if any, that would occur once he reached his targets. For sure it would be fascinating and very informative.

Nevertheless, this remained the optimal course of action. It had become evident after Sephiroth's murder of President Shinra. That he didn't seem to have died as he should have five years prior was a complete surprise, but what a delightful one. It created an ever-expending list of new research opportunities. 

Hojo had lost himself in his thoughts. He blinked and looked up, but his looming experiment was simply waiting for further orders. Suddenly irritated, Hojo snapped for him to go. The experiment saluted, a habit Hojo had not seen worth his time to remove, and strode away purposefully.

Hojo watched him disappear around a hallway before setting in motion. He made his way to a more remote part of his laboratory. Everything had been cleaned already and there were no more traces of the blood and dead bodies that had littered the area.

The containment unit was still pulsing with light. Although he knew already what he would see, Hojo stretched his neck to see what lay within. The original discovery had been partly annoying, partly thrilling. That Sephiroth would do such a thing, hone in on this one part of the lumbering mothership, was telling. _Genetics._

Pinkish red light coated the walls of the containment unit labelled Jenova. Where a full body had once been restrained, only bits of flesh now clung to the drooping restraints.

The unit was empty; Jenova was gone. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The head was huge, the jaws large enough to swallow man and bird alike in one bite. A forked tongue just as big flickered out to smell the air as the grey-green cobra-like skull swayed slowly side-to-side, disturbingly assessing."

The dry, barren landscape was at odds with the smell that drifted on the increasingly cold breeze. It was thick and cloyingly humid, like one would expect to herald a thriving swamp. They smelled it long before they reached it; as they reined in at the edge of a dip in the land, Vincent finally saw the bog that was at the source of the stink.

The land stretching from the bottom of the bowl-like depression of the fields was all grey-green, with tufts of sparse vegetation sticking up here and there from the murk. There were no trees or larger plants to hinder the view of the squat mountains through which ran the abandoned mines. Their profile was farther away than Vincent was comfortable with.

Following Cloud's example, Vincent swung off the saddle. His boots sank ankle-deep in the soft ground; he nearly lost one squelching them out.

"Charming," he couldn't help but remark, casting around for something solid he could rest on. There wasn't much, so he looped the reins loosely around his wrist and gave his chocobo a break as he remained standing.

Aerith alighted only marginally more gracefully to the ground, patting her bird's neck as it ruffled its wings and tail. She had to hold on to the saddle to extricate her feet from the mud.

"We'll be grateful for the chocobos," she hummed in agreement, peering down at the awaiting bog.

"Perhaps." At her quirked eyebrow, Vincent elaborated. "If they are fast enough." He appraised the distant mountains. "And strong enough."

"It'll be alright." The way she said it, it was as if she spoke of much more than their imminent crossing.

Vincent did not offer a reply, instead studying what lay before them. He'd never travelled here as a Turk. Shinra had had very little interest in the mines and the depreciation of mythril had been worsened by its difficult geographical location. They had been abandoned by the local miners and left to the zoloms and monsters.

He could feel Aerith's eyes resting on him. He was very good at ignoring stares, but he still felt the hair at the nape of his neck raise. Unwittingly annoyed, he looked back and held her gaze. She did not flinch away or smile or frown.

"Did you receive mako treatments?"

Vincent couldn't hide his surprise at the straightforward question. The prying didn't offend him, it would just as easily be ignored, but he had not expected it. Aside from occasionally Cid, they had all been very careful not to ask him private or possibly uncomfortable questions. It was exactly as he preferred it and he had encouraged their discretion.

As the silence lengthened, Aerith's lips etched upwards in a wryly amused smile.

"I knew a SOLDIER once, back in Midgar" she started instead, breaking eye contact and looking over at the Mythril Mountains. "He assimilated the mako so easily, I could hear it in him whenever we were together."

Her tone was all he needed to understand that the SOLDIER in question was dead.

"Hear?" he queried instead.

Aerith nodded. "Cloud, too," she didn't answer. Turning to him, she tilted her head, now curious. "But not you. You show some signs, but I can't hear it at all."

What was she? He couldn't sense aggression or danger from her at all, but these things she was saying had all his instincts rear up, the beasts rumbling.

Vincent very carefully weighed his next move. "I did not receive mako treatments," he finally confirmed. He actually had no way of confirming that without talking to Hojo or getting into his files, but he suspected that he had been treated with just enough mako to help settle in the beasts. There may be minimal lasting effects, but the substance itself had not been enough to become a permanent addition to his bloodstream.

"I see," she said vaguely. "Thank you."

Feeling unsettled about what she may be thanking him for, Vincent hummed noncommittally. Tifa came up then and engaged Aerith in conversation, leaving him free to naturally drop out of it and wonder about the exchange.

They gave the chocobos as much of a rest as they dared in preparation for the grueling run ahead of them, but as the sun dipped steadily towards the horizon they climbed back into the saddle. They divided into two teams to split the zoloms' attention; Vincent headed southward with RedXIII and Cid leading Cait Sith's chocobo, the AI sitting astride the shut down robot while the rest of the group circled northward.

Although the downward slope was not very sharp the footing was muddy and slippery. It took them some time before they managed to find a suitable path down. The chocobos became nervous the closer they got to the swamp, perhaps knowing what lurked underneath.

"Hovercrafts," Cid declared suddenly and with certainty as they stopped just at the edge of the still water.

RedXIII huffed a breath that might have been a laugh.

"Next time, we get a bloody hovercraft."

"Of course," Vincent agreed smoothly, privately entertained by Cid's discomfiture at the imminent crossing. Chocobos would certainly not be pleasant but a hovercraft would be missed if stolen or would leave a bright, obvious paper trail if bought.

"At least you don't have to run in this," RedXIII added, raising a paw in demonstration.

"Is that supposed to be comforting?" Cid retorted but there was no fire in it. Jaw working, Cid gave slack to the reins and shifted his seat. "Let's get this over with."

Vincent nodded and did the same. He waited as RedXIII gathered his weight on his hindquarters and tensed. A few seconds passed in utter stillness before he sprang forward, an explosion of intent, precise motion and began lopping through the bog in long, jumping strides. Cid kicked his bird in motion and met a moment of resistance from the one carrying Cait Sith before it began following with a dismayed squawk. Vincent was behind them by just a few paces.

With his sharp eyes and lower line of sight, RedXIII kept them on as hard ground as he possibly could, following the trails of shrubs and stunted trees as landmarks to less watery footing. Even then, it made for a very bumpy ride. Vincent rose in the saddle, absorbing the stumbles and sudden shifts in his knees to avoid being thrown off, keeping pressure into the chocobo's flanks so that it would keep up with RedXIII.

At first there was nothing except for the wind and the occasional curses or chocobo warks. Knowing what thrived in this bog, Vincent was almost relieved when he saw an elongated shadow ripple its way towards them.

"Zolom, 4 o'clock and closing from the front," he called out sharply.

Immediately RedXIII turned sharp, putting the zolom to their rear so that it could not catch up to them. Vincent felt his chocobo try to put on a burst of speed and had to restrain it sharply with the reins so that it would not override Cid and RedXIII and burn itself out. They still had a long distance to go.

The new angle prevented the zolom from catching up but also left the mountains on their flank and curtailed their progress. Slowly, RedXIII turned them back towards the mountain range, the zolom still following but not gaining ground.

Vincent looked over his shoulder every few strides to make sure it remained at as comfortable a distance as possible, occasionally catching glimpses of a muscular back and glistening scales when they navigated shallower waters. Its size was remarkable, however Vincent was far from a zolom specialist and did not know if it was an adult or juvenile.

He got his answer more quickly than he cared for. A rolling back only half submerged by bog at the best of times slithered closer. The smaller zolom disappeared at its approach, leaving them with their more sizable foe.

Vincent called the newest arrival to the others. Cait Sith jabbered worriedly, hanging on for dear life to his strapped plushie. This time RedXIII did pick up the pace as much as he could, but he was not built for prolonged speed like the chocobos and Vincent worried that he would not make it. The mountains were looming much closer but they were not there yet. 

The measure seemed to keep the zolom from reaching them. It stopped closing distance and was slowed down by its bulk whenever they reached a shallower, drier stretch. He heard Cid calling encouragements to RedXIII as he wove through the bog, keeping them as much as possible on those easier paths for them but still towards the mountains. As they began to be able to see etches of dry land in the distance, Vincent allowed himself to think that they might reach it without mishap.

Of course, fate was rarely so kind, as he should very well know. With the rumbling of the zolom at his heels, Vincent missed the sudden yowl of surprise from RedXIII and the splash that accompanied it. He only realized something was wrong when Cid circled the birds around wide and slowed to a halt.

His view unobstructed, Vincent saw that RedXIII had run straight into a deep pocket of water and had floundered under. The water was churning violently as he tried to resurface and find his footing. Without thinking about it for a second, Cid was out of the saddle and thigh-deep in bog just at the edge of the sudden hole.

"Cid!" Vincent called out, his voice heavy with the threat of the approaching zolom. Already this delay was too much. The monster would catch up to them now.

"Distract it!" Cid yelled back. Flipping the reins over his chocobo's neck, he tossed them in the churning water where RedXIII was trying to keep his head afloat. "Red, stop trashing and catch the reins!" Whether he was in any position to hear was debatable.

The whole venture was doomed, but still Vincent spun his bird around, forcing it to face the incoming zolom. The monster actually slowed down as it realized that its preys were no longer moving. Placing himself squarely between the zolom and his comrades, Vincent held the reins tight with his off hand and drew his pistol with the other. The barrel rose, perfectly steady despite his frisking mount, and waited.

The zolom stopped a short distance away and rose. The head was huge, the jaws large enough to swallow man and bird alike in one bite. A forked tongue just as big flickered out to smell the air as the grey-green cobra-like skull swayed slowly side-to-side, disturbingly assessing.

Vincent's pistol roared. His shot took out the zolom's bulbous left eye, dragging a guttural hiss from the monster. The next one snapped its head to the side before it could initiate its enraged lunge.

Its attention caught, Vincent spurred his chocobo into motion, bolting to the side and away from his companions. The zolom lashed its tail but missed him, sending murky water raining over their heads. From the corner of his eye he saw that Cid had managed to entangle RedXIII in the reins and was coaxing the chocobo to pull his bulk out of the bog. Although RedXIII was no lightweight, the chocobo was desperately trying to get away from the predator and was thus helping with the extraction process.

Vincent led the zolom in circles, shooting when he could. His rounds could not penetrate its scales but were quite successful at infuriating it and keeping it from turning to easier prey. Nevertheless, the strategy would only last for so long.

Mercifully, Cid managed to extricate RedXIII from the deep pool before the zolom could land a hit. He took only a minute to confirm that he was alright before disengaging the reins and swinging back in the saddle. Without a word, he unhooked his spear from the saddle strap and spurred his mount forward, hampered by the one carrying Cait Sith but determined nonetheless.

"Keep it as still as you can," Vincent called. If he could take out its other eye they may have a better chance at this. The zolom's submerged chase clearly indicated that it did not hunt by sight. They would have to defeat it or chase it away to be able to win.

"Bait, got it!" Cid swerved and tried to catch the zolom's attention.

It didn't take much. Two chocobos were better than one; the zolom turned to follow Cid and lunged. The snap of jaws missed Cait's bird by a hair, removing a few feathers and eliciting a terrified wark. In a show of impressive riding skills, Cid spun his bird on the spot and lashed out with his spear at the zolom's neck. The blade bounced off the scales ineffectually. Before the monster could raise its head again RedXIII appeared in a blur of brackish mud and dirty red fur, launching himself on the head and laying waste with claws and fangs. His growls and snarls pierced the air through the sounds of the trashing snake, the raking claws like metal against metal.

RedXIII's position atop the head prevented Vincent from taking his shot at the remaining eye so he concentrated on confusing the zolom with bullets along its neck. A shrill hiss soon told him that RedXIII had succeeded where he hadn't. Throwing its head in a sudden and sinuous dive that finally succeeded in dislodging RedXIII, Vincent saw that the zolom's right eye was now a weeping socket of black and oozing green.

Its tail rattling ominously over the water, the zolom raised its head high and became still, its tongue flickering out rapidly. Vincent did not trust the sudden break in attacks and held his bird firmly in check, his pistol raised as he observed for minute hints of movement. Blind and furious, the zolom was only marginally less dangerous than before.

Many moments passed in this eerie stillness, both sides weighing each other, until suddenly the zolom drew its head back with an inhaled hiss like industrial ventilation. Opening cavernous jaws, it exhaled a great gout of flames.

No amount of control could have dictated the chocobos' movements then. Vincent's bird tried jumping out of the way but was not quite fast enough. Flames engulfed its right flank and legs, forcing Vincent to bolt out of the saddle as his coat and pants caught fire. He landed awkwardly in the bog, sinking to the chest and extinguishing his clothing, but still he felt the tenacious heat against his skin, magical and voracious. He still had his gun and he fired at the black hole of fangs and fire that bore down on him, yet it did not stop it. Mired in mud and unable to extricate himself in time, Vincent's world became that of a giant gullet.

 

 

 

"Vincent!' Cid screamed as he watched Vincent disappear beneath the zolom's crashing head and spraying water. He'd managed to keep his seat and regain control of his mount, somewhat, but it would mean jack shit if Vincent died eaten by a fucking giant snake. The lead had snapped; Cait Sith was on his own. Feeling his teeth bare in a snarl, Cid slipped his boots out of the stirrups and kicked his bird forward, applying the butt of his spear to its side to urge it faster. When he was close enough he released the reins, jumped up on the saddle and used it as a boost to propel himself high and over the zolom's still half-submerged head before he could lose his own balance.

He hadn't thought this move out and would later piss his pants and wonder at his sheer dumb luck, but in that instant that he was airborne and staring down at the zolom everything was crystal clear. The monster's every twitch was telegraphed and accounted for; his spearhead was aimed unerringly and with perfect precision. He could already feel the impact of the collision, was prepared to brace for it while still maximizing damage. His mind was white noise over red rage and focused only on not letting Vincent get eaten.

And then he began to fall. Letting his spear lead the way, he leaned all of his weight on it as he came down on the zolom's neck, right in the middle of its crest. He expected his blade to break on the scales, maybe skim off if he was lucky. He did not expect it to break through the natural armor, to slide in with the screech of a runaway train and the shock of a mako-burn. His spear kept going once the layer of scales was pierced and he had to relinquish it as it disappeared almost completely in the zolom's body, skewering it nicely.

Cid's landing was much less gracious or fortuitous. He fell badly on his feet only to promptly skid and tumble off the zolom, disappearing in the water as the monster trashed anew. Miraculously this part of the bog wasn't too deep and Cid managed to recover his footing, feeling his latest acrobatics in the pulse of adrenaline in his joints.

"Watch out!" Cid heard in RedXIII's guttural - _alive_ \- voice before something snagged his shirt and ruthlessly dragged him back and away from the coils of the zolom's body.

"Fuck!" Cid barked out with feeling. "Let go, damn, I'm good!" But RedXIII didn't let go that quickly, making sure that Cid was well out of wild-trashing-range before releasing his mouthful of shirt. Only then was he allowed to regain proper footing.

Patches of grass and even swamp were still on fire. However, as Cid crouched defensively, he noted that the zolom had not raised its head. He knew it couldn't be his spear. It wasn't long enough to pin it to the swampy bottom. But as he watched, the zolom's movements became less coordinated, jerkier, until they slowed to a halt. The silence was eerie after the battle. Cid's ears were still ringing.

"The hell," he murmured, expecting a ruse. He took a careful step forward. When that didn't elicit a response from the zolom, he took another.

"Wait," RedXIII said suddenly. He sloshed forward, deceptively silent in the liquid mud, and sniffed the air loudly. "I know what this is."

"I'm glad one of us does." He grunted as his knee vehemently protested his next step but otherwise ignored it. "We need to get Vincent out of there."

"Don't!" RedXIII insisted, and there went the shirt-biting again.

Cid's very careful choice of angry words died in his throat when the zolom's head began to twitch again. He froze in place, acutely aware that his hands were empty and that his spear was imbedded in a giant snake's neck. RedXIII kept a very firm grip on him as the zolom's jaws slowly twitched open in fits and starts. He needn't have worried; what came out of those jaws had Cid rooted to the spot.

The smaller behemoth was entirely covered in green blood. Its curved horns, fur, mane, bared fangs and claws, it was all dripping green. It was very, very clear from the smallest glimpse Cid got of the zolom's maw that it had been ravaged from the inside where it was soft and vulnerable.

Words gathered in his throat, choking, but he couldn't make his tongue move, his jaw working uselessly. The beast's eyes swiveled to him, tarnished gold and prehistoric predator.  

Undoubtedly sensing his mood RedXIII released him but stepped slightly forward. "Don't move. That's Vincent."

"What?" Cid managed to gurgle.

"I saw him transform before," RedXIII elaborated succinctly. "He helped me then. Just _wait._ "

"Easier fucking said than done." But what else could he do? He would never outrun this long-legged monster, his chocobo had bolted and Caith Sith was nowhere to be seen, probably stuck on a spooked chocobo that he couldn't control.

"Stay calm," RedXIII admonished.

Vincent, if that was truly him, ambled slowly forward, its tail moving in slow arcs as it licked its chops clean and closed the blinds over its impressive set of fangs. It stopped at a reasonable distance and leaned forward slightly, sniffing, considering. The eyes never blinked, intent.

And just as Cid was about to lose his shit completely, Vincent transformed back into himself. The process was indescribable and Cid didn't even try to make sense of it. He just knew that one moment some kind of maybe-purplish monster was considering if he was ally or food, the other that his friend was standing in front of him, a little woozy-looking but otherwise just peachy in burned clothes.

"...That's useful." Cleverness, thy name is Cid Highwind.

Vincent blinked and the wariness that had marked his every feature and stance bled away to be replaced by befuddlement.

"It can be," he replied very carefully. Still he didn't step closer, perhaps thinking he would spook them.

If he was completely honest with himself, Cid would be tempted to agree. However, he was a goddamn grown man who had seen some weird shit in his life and if whatever Vincent became had the guts to not be completely swallowed by a zolom and rip it inside out, he owed it to him not to freak out.

Instead he snorted loudly and walked forward, making his sloshing way to the zolom to retrieve his weapon. "Well, it saved our asses. Hopefully these things don't like their own dead and will stay the fuck away from here, because we're walking the rest of the way."

Vincent didn't smile, exactly, but something definitively lightened in his expression. "Where's Caith Sith?"

"Beats me. We'll have to find him first." Cid closed his teeth over a curse as he clambered back over the zolom. His right knee and shoulders shot with pain dulled by adrenaline. He was going to feel this one in the morning. There was only about a hand span of haft left peaking from the scales, but it came away easily enough, if messily. Cid grimaced at the gore and the damage it might do the metal before he would have a chance to clean it. "Ugh," he added emphatically.

"Thank you, Cid," Vincent said sincerely from his position down in the bog.

"For what?"

"Your spear. It interrupted its swallow."

Oh. Cid straightened, his dripping spear in hand, and raised his shoulders, abashed. "Well, you brained it, so let's just call us quits."

Again Vincent was not smiling, but Cid still had the definite impression that he was, somehow.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I suggest that we hurry," RedXIII put in smoothly, traces of exasperation in his voice. He shook his mane, sprinkling mud about.

"Right." Cid wiped as much blood as he could from the haft then slid down the zolom's side. "Let's find that shit AI."

 

 

 

In the end, it was Cait Sith who found them. When his chocobo had broken its lead and fled he had reactivated his robot plushie. It was now plodding through the bog while holding the reins in one meaty fist, forcing the unhappy bird to follow.

"Guys!" Caith Sith jumped up and down on the chocobo's back, a large grin splitting his face. "You're still alive!"

Cid avoided acknowledging his relief by harrumphing loudly. "No thanks to you."

"Sorry! This guy managed to go far before I got him under control." Cait Sith promptly jumped from the chocobo to his plushie. "Is anyone injured? You should ride the rest of the way."

"I'm fine," Cid stated. "Just hurry up."

He wisely didn't comment as Vincent accepted Cait Sith's offer and concentrated on making as much speed as he could in this sludge. The mountains were close, maybe less than half an hour's trudging. They could make it.

RedXIII joined him, his long legs breaching the water more easily. Vincent moved the chocobo in circles around the small group, keeping a watchful eye trained outward for any oncoming zoloms.

Time had flown since their arrival at the swamp. Cid scowled up at the disappearing sun and, consequently, the fading light. He didn't doubt that the bog would become infinitively more dangerous if they were caught in it at full dark. He picked up the pace as much as he could. Keeping to shallower waters meant they could move faster but also that they were not following the most direct route.

Halfway there and still there were no signs of zoloms. On the next circle Vincent matched his bird's pace with his.

"Do you need to ride?" he asked quietly.

Rather than answering, Cid looked up at Vincent. _Really_ looked. He didn't seem injured but his skin looked paler than usual and there was uncommon tension in his shoulders, the line of his spine. It also transpired in his riding. The chocobo's gait was jerky and uncomfortable. In all fairness, though, that might just be the consequence of almost being made into fried chicken by an overgrown fire-breathing reptile.

"How hard is it to transform?" he asked instead.

Vincent took his sweet time answering, his eyes roaming the surroundings as he thought. They were brighter in the dimming light.

"It's painless," he finally answered.

Which wasn't exactly an answer either, but whatever, Cid was flexible.

"Then I'm fine," he reiterated stubbornly. Sure, his knee gave a twinge at every step but it still worked. Plus, giving the long-range fighter the higher vantage point made sense.

"Very well."

And with that Vincent went off again. The rest of the walk was made in wary, expectant silence, their ears straining to catch the merest rippling sound that could tip them off to potential danger. A zolom did eventually pick up the chase, but as Cid was about three steps away from solid ground, blessed, rocky ground, he couldn't give a shit beyond jogging those last three steps and putting some distance between himself and the water line.

"We made it," Cait Sith exhaled with obvious relief, sagging against his robot's head. "Next time, we're getting hovercrafts."

As Cid shook off as much of the mud and water as he could, he saw the zolom stop close to the end of the bog. Slowly it drew itself up. It was another big specimen, just a bit smaller than the one they'd defeated. Its head slithered side-to-side for a few moments, its eyes trained on its potential prey as its tongue peaked out once, twice, before it decided they weren't worth the trouble. Just as slowly, casually, it lowered its upper body back into the water and swam away.

Cid exhaled in heavy relief. "Let's just not have a second time."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone give a round of applause for Cid's very first High Jump!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They saw the lights first. Pale, cold glows reflecting off the mythril-etched walls, in this darkness they preceded their bearers by a good distance. Except that they did not only come from the one direction.

The night air at the feet of the mountains was bitingly cold. Cloud shifted his stance, keeping his back to the fire and his eyes on the path leading down to the swamp.

The other group was late. Cait Sith had radioed in earlier that evening to update him on their status and their likely progress, yet still he found it was taking them too long. Of all possible scenarios to justify this delay, Cloud saw another zolom in every one of them. He had never fought the creatures, however the slithering mass of scales and predatory intent that had tailed them for most of the rapid ride had been enough.

His thoughts were spiraling downward; Cloud forcefully turned his attention to the night, focusing on the sounds coming from outside and not on the hushed conversation the others were uttering around the small fire they had managed to build. Cait Sith would surely have contacted him again if something had happened. There was no point adding to their existing concern.

Surprisingly, the night was promising to be louder than the day. All sorts of animal and monster cries reached them up from the water. The mines were eerily quiet in comparison, yet he had no doubt that they would be just as challenging once they made their way deeper inside. The warren of tunnels built by humans would quickly have become prime monster territory.

Cloud did not want to leave the others here but he was beginning to be restless. He fingered the phone held too tightly in his hand, the volume at maximum despite how the sound would carry across the night air. Cait would call. Unless something had gotten to him too quickly, he would call.

He just managed to uncurl his fingers before he cracked something. Slowly, he raised his hand and flipped the lid open. The ringtone would be loud in this environment, pinpointing the others' exact location to anything listening. Cloud's finger hovered over the dial button.

He heard the sounds while he was still debating with himself: low voices and the soft clicking of talons over rock. Straightening, he turned his head slightly towards the interior of the cave.

"Tifa. Barret."

Immediately the others became quiet. Tifa and Barret came to step beside him.

"D'ya hear somethin'?" Barret rumbled as quietly as he could, which wasn't all that much.

"People and at least one chocobo," he answered. He still couldn't hear anything more definitive.

"It must be them!" Tifa craned her head but did not call out. Although chances were high that it was indeed their friends, it was no guarantee. Other, not-so-reputable people chose this route to cross the mountains.

A few tense moments passed as they waited. Aerith came to join them, leaving their backs unguarded. No one argued the point.

"Oy, guys, it's us!" Cid's yell echoed loudly along the rock walls. "Don't shoot!"

"As if I'd waste bullets on ya!" Barret called right back, voice no longer restrained. Despite his gruff tone he was grinning and Cloud found himself smiling along as their missing companions appeared around the bend in the track.

They were muddy. There wasn't much else they could see of potential injuries, they were so covered in mud. As he had suspected, they only had one bird left. Vincent was leading it as the chocobo trudged along, head hung low, steps dragging. Except for Cid hiding a slight limp, they didn't seem in dire condition.

"Are you alright?" Tifa asked as she walked a few steps down to join them.

Cid huffed at her. "What do you think? We got caught by a zolom. Killed it. Is that a fire you have going up there? I'm freezing my balls off."

Reassurances were exchanged as the girls herded their weary companions to the fire. Cloud waited last to make sure nothing was following before joining them.

"Rest. We'll cross the mountain tomorrow," he said. Despite no one holding the reins any longer, the chocobo was standing close, perhaps sensing that they were still better protection. Cloud began quietly removing its tack.

"And then to that hidden port." Cid swore as Aerith began working on his leg despite all his protestations. "If it's even there."

"It's still our best chance at getting a ship without Shinra noticing," Tifa interjected, helping RedXIII with the worst of the mud caked in his fur.

"Smugglers aren't a trusty lot. They might not want to deal with us."

"Then we'll just have to convince them," Aerith declared too cheerfully.

"With what? We ain't got enough gil between the lot of us."

Cid in a particularly foul mood did not let go easily. Saddlebags removed, Cloud began untying the girth and straps, finding himself amused by Cid's grouchiness despite everything. He placed the saddle on the ground and slid the bridle off the tired chocobo's head. It stayed put as he tried brushing skewed feathers back straight.

"Gil is not the only currency smugglers will be interested in," Vincent said quietly. He was steadfastly cleaning his gun and did not look up as he methodically took it apart.

"Like what?"

"Their continued anonymity and security."

Silence met this loaded statement. Cid goggled at Vincent.

"You can't be fucking serious. Us, storm a whole bloody smuggling port?"

"We did manage the Shinra mothership."

Cid barked a laugh and the mood suddenly lightened. Cloud was surprised. He had not previously realized, but Vincent was becoming more adept at managing Cid's temper.

They set up a watch after this and settled down for the night. Cloud did not wake Cid up for the watch he had browbeat them into assigning him. The chocobo had gone by the time the sun rose and they began their descent into the tunnels.

 

 

The Mythril Caves were an interesting warren. Vincent had never previously visited them and he found himself enjoying their sharp-angled, softly glistening walls. The air was crisp and fresh but surprisingly warm, with a hint of naturally-occurring raw mako. It made the beasts in him antsy.

Even despite the resident monsters, that is.

Vincent lowered his shotgun as RedXIII barreled into the remaining crawler, teeth and claws shredding through the exoskeleton with a hair-raising shriek. He did not holster it yet. So far the caves had disgorged their inhabitants at them suddenly and from any direction.

"Vermin," Cid muttered behind him, raising the tip of his lance to lean it safely in the crook of his shoulder.

"Would you rather deal with the kind outside?" Vincent retorted, stretching his leg to step over the carcasses of the crawler pack. RedXIII looked back quickly to make sure they were all accounted for before trotting down the tunnel, occasionally sniffing the ground.

Cid turned a baleful eye on Vincent over his shoulder. Perhaps it would be wiser not to joke about the zoloms. Safe in the confines of his coat, Vincent nonetheless allowed himself an amused smile.

"Says the guy who got eaten," Cid muttered before returning his attention to the front.

Vincent huffed quietly at the jab, entertained, but did not rise to the bait.

Cloud had refused to split up this time. The tunnels were a labyrinthine jumble and even with phones it might take too much time to rejoin positions at the exit, especially if they lost the signal. However Vincent sensed that guilt was playing just as strong a role in this new plan of action. Cloud’s broadsword poked high in their line of sight, leading the way as RedXIII followed, his tail casting warm dancing lights against the coldness of the mythril-laced walls. The rest followed single file, leaving enough space between each other to swing weapons and react to threats.

So far the monsters had not posed too much of a problem for the larger group. The crawlers liked to swarm them in packs and occasionally cover them in sticky residue but they had yet to encounter anything more worrying.

Following old mining paths and rotten landmarks and indications, the group moved forward in near-silence, their voices hushed to a whisper. There was a constant echo of dripping water far in the distance that they never seemed to get nearer to. With half of their provisions and equipment gone with Vincent and Cid’s bolted and most likely devoured chocobos, it was not a heartening sound.

The tunnel they were trudging in eventually widened to a large upward turn, big enough to hold the party in a loose, comfortable circle. Although its size was somewhat surprising, what caught Vincent’s attention were the walls. They had been heavily mined, but with care rather than industrial machinery. They were still pockmarked with chisel and hammer scars and sharp, square protrusions poked out here and there. The mythril was obviously all gone, but still that wasn’t the interesting part. Revealed by this mining were now-empty channels, thin and cursive, that ran in all directions across the surface of the tunnel walls.

As Vincent stepped nearer, one of the monsters stirred in sleepy hunger. He felt it like a sudden compression of his lungs and heart, like oxygen deprivation. He had never felt that one quite like this before. Distant stirrings, faint grumbling, but never this clearly. He wondered which one it was. Only Galian had so far been able to rise so close to the surface.

Curious, he studied them more closely. There was a sort of dim, just visible glow inside the channels and immediately he understood what this was, or had been. Mako rivulets, now dried. Although Shinra was now busily harvesting star-produced raw mako, not so long ago they had tested their refining processes on the less volatile if less generous environments of moons and planets. Maybe this stream had been sucked dry. Maybe it had carved itself new paths deeper in the mountains.

Quelling the distracting beast, Vincent straightened away. The others had noticed too, judging by their different states of observation. Only Aerith was standing back. Although her stance was patient, there was also sadness that could not be hidden in the tilt of her mouth and eyes.

“Do you think there’s a mako stream nearby? I’ve never seen one,” Tifa wondered, tracing a finger gently along the curve of the rock. She jerked slightly at the tingle it must have undoubtedly elicited.

“Maybe it’s even got materia,” Barret wondered, twisting his head sideways to get a better look.

“I wonder what it would be like, to find one raw in the wild instead of a shop.” Tifa moved away from the tunnel wall, still rubbing her finger absentmindedly.

“There’s no difference,” Cloud replied blandly. “Come on.”

It was a slightly more cheerful group that moved down the tunnel and deeper into the mines. Vincent kept his eyes on Aerith, who lingered until her and Vincent were the last ones. She just looked askance at him, indecipherable, before stretching her legs to catch up to the others.

Vincent wondered idly if he was the only one picking up on these strange moments, then filed it away for later consideration and followed.

Technology told them they walked for a few hours, but they would not know it from the tunnels. They remained in the same semi-darkness, the same dry warmth no matter how they walked. When they stepped out of the tunnels and into a large cavern divided by a deep chasm, they decided to call it a day. A wide and solid ledge curved around half of their side, a thick set of rock-hewn stairs joining one narrow end of the chasm with the other, and they elected to make camp on it.

They had purchased a small, somewhat derelict but functional gas-fueled portable stove doubling as a heater from the farm. Thankfully, it had survived the crossing on Tifa’s bird so they set it up near the wall and proceeded to heat water for their ration meals as they removed their gear and cleaned it up.

The Turks had never really been called on missions that demanded this level of camping (unless they went wrong), so Vincent was content to sit back and concentrate on his rifle and ammunition. He still had a comfortable level of rounds, but he would be happy to reach civilization and restock.

The re-hydrated ration meals were about as satisfying as they could get, which wasn’t very much, so they quickly moved on to conversation. At first it was adventure stories, funny events and habitual small talk. It quickly devolved into speculative planning, with Cloud at the center of it. It wasn’t surprising.

“Can y’a tell where he’s now?” Barret asked, somewhat non-sequitur from the previous topic of battle strategies.

Cloud blinked, startled and visibly uncomfortable by the abrupt question.

Tifa elbowed the bigger man in the ribs with an admonishing 'Barret!'

"What? S'a fair question!" he spluttered.

"It is," Cloud agreed quietly. Tifa seemed to want to argue further, but a look passed between them and she kept her peace . Inhaling slowly, Cloud's eyes lost some of their focus. "I don't think he's close," he began, uncertain. "Actually, it feels as if he's off-planet."

Silence stretched as they waited for more. None came.

"That's it?" Barret had obviously expected more. "Off-planet is pretty damn big!"

Cloud just shrugged.

"It's a start," RedXIII rumbled. "Perhaps once we fly out he will be able to pinpoint a more precise location."

The object of conversation didn't seem too bothered that he was being discussed as no more than a faulty radar. Vincent watched his eyes shutter guardedly and his attention fix on empty space.

"Rumors can be even harder to trace," he felt compelled to add. "This is enough."

They still did not know he had been a Turk. His comments raised their curiosity, but perhaps out of a sudden sense of guilt for their words with Cloud, they did not voice their questions. Instead, Aerith interjected with an inquiry that abruptly changed the subject to lighter, inconsequential topics. It was kept as such, sometimes awkwardly, until they began drifting off to sleep.

Tifa came to sit briefly beside him when they were almost the last ones still wake. She didn't look at him as she inhaled deeply, letting it out slowly. Controlled. "Thank you."

Vincent remained silent.

"For deflecting," she elaborated. "You and Aerith. It's--it hasn't been easy on Cloud. Perhaps it's even harder now he knows he hasn't killed him."

Vincent opened his gloved hand, feeling the pressure of leather and metal against his knuckles. "Nor is it easier for you."

Tifa's head moved in surprise. "In a way, maybe not. Sephiroth, he was an -- he was an important mentor to Cloud. What happened, what he's doing now...he's still trying to look up to him, I think."

The brief catch before 'mentor' was slight, but Vincent heard layers of meaning underneath it and he understood that their relationship had been more complicated. How so, he ignored still but was now curious about.

"Perhaps it will be an easier thing to do than expected."

Tifa looked at him curiously. "How? What do you know about Sephiroth? You said you had business with him."

Slowly, Vincent stretched his legs and stood. "I know little, except that he was a formidable man and undoubtedly still is. Good night."

He left Tifa to her musings; unwilling to sleep, he quietly joined Cid for the first watch and counted time by watching his cigarette butts glow down to the filters.

 

 

 

Her back to the small heater, Aerith studied the shadows around her. She could see very little, the only light coming from RedXIII's tail and the dim glow of the mythril walls where a few veins rose to the surface. Still, it was better than no watch at all. Aerith walked slowly along the edge of the crevice, staff held to her side in a loose fist.

Things had changed rather unexpectedly since the Highwind had crashed on her planet and in her life. First with Cloud, then Sephiroth, miracles seemed to be lining up for their turn. Every day now she caught herself wishing that Zack was somewhere along that line, that he would also reappear out of thin air and dreams of better days, a sheepish grin across his lips and apologies in his eyes. If only she could ask Cloud, but she dared not in his current state.

Stopping near the precipice, the toes of her boots scuffing scree over the edge, Aerith strained her ear against the darkness. The caves were not as silent as one might expect, far from it. They echoed will all sorts of sounds; far-off monster cries, dripping water, falling and tumbling rocks. But what she was trying to catch was far more elusive.

Vincent wasn't the only one holding back secrets about Shinra.

She wasn't surprised when the faintest echo of footsteps reached her, so quiet that if she hadn't been listening for it she would have missed it. She knew very well that they were intentional, a simple courtesy to avoid surprising her and alerting the others.

Slowly, she made her way along the edge to the farthest end of the ledge, where there was another outcropping that was only a bit too far a jump to clear safely. A human silhouette slowly took form as he stepped nearer to her. She still couldn't make out full details, but she didn't need to.

"Tseng," she whispered quietly. There was a nod of acknowledgment. "Are you alone?"

"For now." She caught the shadowed curve of a smile. "I'm glad to see you made it out safely. I lost your trail until you reached Kalm."

Aerith eyed what little she could see of Tseng carefully. He was never less than perfectly polite with her but she still could never understand the true motives behind his actions. That was why he was the leader of the Turks, she imagined.

"Why did you free me?" she asked bluntly.

"After all the trouble I had chasing you, letting you die like a rat in a cage would have been pointless. I'd much rather resume the chase."

"Won't Shinra find out you did that?"

Tseng inclined his head to the side. "No."

She believed him.

"The explosions must have been terrible." And most likely helped in covering his actions.

Stepping still closer, Tseng sat down cross-legged, back straight and formal, even now. Aerith did not imitate him.

"It could have been worse. Sephiroth is not expert in everything."

"I'm still sorry it happened."

From the movement of his shoulders Aerith guessed that Tseng laughed, but it was too quiet to hear.

"Oh, I'm used to you knocking together the skulls of my men." Although obvious, Aerith allowed the dodge.

"Why did you come?" She was equally torn between misgiving and a strange feeling of familiar comfort.

"Just a small warning. You may want to find a reason to rouse your comrades." Tseng must have seen the way she clenched her staff, the aborted lift. He raised one hand calmly, palm outward. "I am not a threat to you at this moment."

"Later, then? When others are with you?" Aerith couldn't quite keep her tone as mild as she would have liked.

"Perhaps."

This time it was her turn to shake her head. She knew better than to try getting such straight answers out of him. "I guess I should thank you for the warning."

Tseng rose from his sitting position, as silent as if he wasn't there at all. "Do not thank me yet. Just be careful. Things will be getting interesting."

Those words from that man had prickles rise along the back of her neck. "What's going on?"

Unsurprisingly, she did not get an answer.

"Remain alert." Tseng bowed slightly, just a tip of his head and shoulders. "Good night."

Aerith did not reply and he did not wait for one. Melting back into the darkness, he effectively disappeared as if he had been nothing more than a strange dream. He could still be there, watching, for all she knew.

Although they had been very quiet, Aerith was nonetheless surprised to see that none of her companions had been startled awake by their short conversation. She gave it some time, walking the length of the drop to give herself a chance to collect her thoughts, before she hit the ground with the butt of her staff. A small avalanche of scree tumbled down into the darkness, echoing against the high walls and ceilings.

"Guys," she said, loudly and clearly.

Cloud, Vincent and RedXIII were on their feet almost immediately. It took the others a few extra grumbles before they rose but very quickly there was a line of drawn weapons facing in all directions.

"I think I heard something," she said, pointing in the same direction that Tseng had come from. Truth be told she hadn't heard anything yet, but she knew it was only a matter of time.

RedXIII etched forward carefully, hunched low and his noise twitching with every inhale. He could stretch far over the gap and his tail provided some light, piercing a little deeper in the caves.

They saw the lights first. Pale, cold glows reflecting off the mythril-etched walls, in this darkness they preceded their bearers by a good distance. Except that they did not only come from the one direction.

There were only two: Tseng and a woman Aerith had never met in her numerous scuffles with the Turks. That put Aerith immediately on guard. Where were Reno and Rude?

"You're all here!" the newcomer exclaimed, fairly bouncing on her feet. "How convenient."

"What do you want?" Cloud asked, his voice steely. His sword was held ready but loosely; the distance was too great to be of much use. The glow of materia in his bracer had intensified.

_Which one do you want?_ , Aerith felt like correcting. They were an odd assortment, to say the least.

Tseng was standing in a different access than before, arms loose at his sides.

"Fortunately for you, nothing," he replied calmly.

"Then why are you here?"

"Just passing through."

Vincent silently raised his pistol. "Then pass."

Tseng tilted his head ever so slightly, but Aerith caught the minute searching frown, the slight narrowing of his eyes. It disappeared just as quickly.

"We will."

"You're lucky you're no longer a target!" the other Turk added triumphantly. "We've got bigger problems with Sephiroth killing his way to Junon!"

"Elena." Tseng's voice had gone from stolidly polite to cold steel in just one word. Elena clicked her teeth shut with a wince. "Go," he added with a small wave of his hand.

She melted back into the tunnels without another word. Tseng did not immediately follow.

"I apologize for my subordinate's manners." His tone was formal and Aerith thought he might actually mean it. Then again, with Reno on his team, he must be used to apologizing like this.

"What's Sephiroth want with Junon?" Cid blurted, ignoring Tseng's politeness and keeping to the important topic at hand.

"Nothing that you need to worry about, I'm sure," Tseng answered smoothly.

"Sorry if I don't believe that bullshit," Cid retorted, sneer clear despite the gloom.

Tseng inclined his head in a half nod. "No offense taken. But a word of advice: do not believe that this means the end of the chase for you. It will only give you a short respite."

"Threats from a Turk. Great!"

This elicited a small laugh from said Turk. "Nothing so dramatic." He sketched a short bow, then turned specifically to Aerith and inclined his head more deeply. "I wish the circumstances had been better, but it was still a pleasure meeting you again."

_Bastard._ Aerith ground her teeth. That had been deliberate.

"What the hell does that mean?" Cid sniped. But there was no one to hear. Tseng had disappeared much like Elena.

None of them dropped their guard. Aerith could feel the weight of their eyes on her but she refused to acknowledge them now.

"Just what we needed!" Cid snapped. "The goddamn Turks on our tails!"

"I don't think he was lying," Aerith countered, her anger seeping through her tone. Tseng was too good with words to bother lying.

"No offense, but that doesn't mean much." Cid crossed his arms. "We gotta move."

Cloud nodded. "We haven't had much rest, but it'd be better to push on."

The encounter had been very brief. Aerith ran through it in her mind, Tseng's parting shot replaying constantly. He wanted her companions to know about her. Why? And was he trying to give them some sort of warning? She had trouble believing it was just a chance encounter. The Turks had much more efficient ways of reaching Junon than crossing the mines on foot.

Unless Sephiroth had been here.

Aerith lengthened her stride until she reached Cloud's side.

"Do you think he's been here?" Aerith asked in a low voice.

Cloud looked askance at her; she held his stare. Finally he shrugged. "I can't say." He hesitated. "But Junon doesn't feel right."

"What if Tseng is right?"

Cloud's look iced over with suspicion and she realized that she shouldn't have used his first name so easily. Seeing such an expression directed at her, from Cloud, punched daggers in her gut. Still she held her ground, prepared to be questioned. Against all odds, he let the matter drop and returned his attention forward. For now. "We'll know soon enough. If he is in Junon, they won't be able to keep it secret."

Hiding her relief at being temporarily off the hook, Aerith looked at his profile, the lines hard and trying to be stoic but failing in a way that had her heart racing. She cast around to the others' locations, but although Tifa had noticed the hushed exchange, she was maintaining a respectful distance.

"What will you do when you find him?"

"I don't know."

His tone implied an end to this particular line of inquiry, so Aerith let it go. _What about Zack?_ she so badly wanted to ask, but did not.

 


End file.
